My Reality is, Nothing Compares to You
by D. Kennedy
Summary: Rachel and Jesse haven't both haven't slept properly since they were in high school. A combination of insomnia, guilt and nightmares plague both of their minds. Will their reunion on the Broadway stage change that? Takes place 8 years after funkication.
1. Prologue

**My Reality is Nothing Compares to You**

Prologue

The beads of sweat slowly dripped off Rachel Berry's forehead as her face twitched slightly in her sleep. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath closed lids, and her whole body had begun to shake the longer she remained in a comatose like state. The sounds of her ragged and unsteady breaths echoed through her apartment loudly as she continued to convulse involuntarily. One would think the combination of movement and noises that left Rachel's petite body would wake anyone; however, that assumption was proven false as Finn Hudson slept soundly next to the young woman. The only acknowledgment of her sleep disturbance was a loud grunt which immediately resulted in Rachel's abrupt awakening.

Rachel's eyes shot open the moment the Giant let out his unconscious protest to her commotion. As she sat up against the headboard and her vision slowly focused, she began scanning the dark bedroom. Her breathing was still uneasy and she began to intake large breaths in an attempt to settle herself, praying the air was not drenched in the scent of freshly sanded Cedar planks.

"I'm home; it was just a dream, a stupid, silly very real dream." She spoke quietly to herself, knowing her whispers would not wake her sleeping boyfriend. "He is gone, snap out of it, Rach." Her attempts at convincing herself there was no more harm headed her way had been successful, allowing her to take in the reality of her present situation. She glanced over to the only pest in the room: the bright, and quite annoying, green light coming from the alarm clock which sat on her bedside table.4:13a.m, the digital block letters read, and Rachel could only let out a groan.

"It was just a silly dream," she repeated to herself once more, and pulled the covers over her head. Rachel's thought process was interrupted by another loud grunt and a large tug on the very blanket she was using to cloak herself in darkness. She dropped the protective sheet and shifted her gaze to Finn, who was in a deep slumber, blissfully unaware of his love's insomnia. _Why isn't he awake with me?_ she thought. He_ would be awake; he was that one night_. The last night she saw him still haunted her dreams.

Rachel closed her eyes tightly and buried her face deep within her hands, trying to drown the memories of the momentous night out of her mind. Much to her dismay, her resistance was futile. Behind her closed eye lids _his_ face was being projected against the black empty backdrop. His ice-blue eyes burning into her soul, his godlike curls untamed, his soft tongue darting out to moisten his lips when he had approached her. She could almost hear his melodic whispers against her ear.

"_Rachel, you are so beautiful." _His voice was still fresh in her mind; his scorching touch still lingered on her skin, numbing her to everyone else. _"I love you so much, please remember that."_ Her lips still burned with the heat that he left engraved upon them, and her eyes still shone with the emotion he had once given her; the very eyes that had begun to sting with tears that threatened to fall, but she refused to let them escape.

It felt like yesterday that she was in his embrace, close to his chest, their breaths and heartbeats harmonizing together in the silence of the night, but it was not yesterday. In fact, that particular yesterday was seven years ago, soon to be eight years. Why did she still feel like crying whenever his name was mentioned or when his face was plastered on the newspapers? When she slept? Rachel wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as a few teardrops managed to free themselves.

"No," Rachel protested, "you will not cry for him, not again." She shifted slightly, her body brushing against a sleeping Finn, bringing her back to her reality. A reality that existed with her in New York not pursuing her Broadway dreams, despite having graduated from Tisch a year prior. A reality in which she had become close friends with her childhood tormentors, Noah and Quinn Puckerman who lived only a few blocks away from her small apartment. A reality where she became a modern day Mary Jane Watson; diner waitress by day, not so successful off Broadway actress by night; a reality that had her sleeping each night in the arms of her supposed 'spider-man' Finn Hudson, the 'paid by photo' sports photographer for the New York Post. Rachel Berry just had to accept that her reality was one without Jesse St. James.

* * *

Jesse St James leaned against the headboard of his large bed as he read his copy of Charles Dickens' _A Tale of Two Cities_ for the third time that week. He was nearing the end of the story when the blonde actress who lay next to him had let out a small whimper from her deep slumber, effectively drawing his attention away from the novel. Jesse had forgotten the woman's name after the second sentence she had spoken to him that evening, but that information did not matter anyway. _Her name would never be as beautiful as hers_, he thought.

Jesse would normally be spending his time alone and awake. However, after enough pestering from his good friend Matthew, he had taken Matt's advice and asked the semi-talented woman to accompany him for dinner, some drinks, and a night of not-so-satisfying (for him, anyway) sex. Matthew was convinced that a night of pleasure would finally put his dear friend Jesse to sleep. Unfortunately Matthew's magical cure was not so magical after all.

Jesse shifted his glance from the woman next to him, to the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table, and for the first time that evening he caught sight of the time. 4:13 am, the bright letters read. He let out a frustrated groan. Yet another night with no rest had been bestowed upon him that evening. Jesse had known that his change in routine would not be a successful sleeping aid, much to Matthew's protests. Jesse was going through "Stage 2" of his sleep cycle, a sleep cycle that had not changed since his senior year at Carmel High School.

The pattern had become a prompt schedule, much like Jesse himself, and with all the spare time Jesse had (since slumber was yet to arrive) he began to classify the stages he went through. Jesse reasoned with himself that it was so he could 'adapt to the familiar two month cycle', but the reality was he had run out of things to occupy his long waking hours. He had so much time that he had actually made a reference chart, which he kept in his day planner so he could match up the dates of his cycle with his daily schedule (much like a woman does with her menstrual cycle).

It had only been the first week of his insomnia, but the lack of sleep was already starting to take its toll on Jesse's body.

"Another five days," he repeated to the quiet bedroom. "Five days until I will be numb." He grabbed the pillow behind his head and placed it over his face. He tried to smother the little light left in his bedroom, and suffocate the heavy breathing and drowsy murmurs coming from the woman beside him. His eyes began to close, pillow still covering his face loosely. He wanted to sleep, but smothering himself would not be the way to achieve it, so the pillow remained loose on his face so he could breathe.

Jesse's breathing began to deepen and steady and he was surprised that _her_ face had no yet appeared into his mind. With a groan he removed the pillow from his face and sat up, realizing that her face had indeed presented itself within his psyche. Her long brown hair, flowing into soft curls around her face, her warm breath hot against his lips, her voice booming out of her mouth as she sang to him the sweetest melody.

"How could I have been so stupid to think today would be different?" he asked himself as he rose from the bed and pulled another blanket over the blonde who shuddered gently in her sleep. _She is beautiful, but she isn't Rachel_, he thought as he took in the sight of the girl on his bed and mentally compared her to the woman who haunted his very existence.

Jesse let out a sigh and exited the room, heading towards the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. He had to accept that this was just the way his life was meant to be. He was forced to live with the memory of the great love he had destroyed, he had forced himself to live the rest of his days knowing that nothing would ever compare to what was; nothing would compare to the one woman who changed his life forever. Nothing would ever compare to Rachel Berry.

* * *

Jesse's Sleep Cycle:

**Stage 1**: Stage one, also known as 'Nightmares', would last for the first week and a half of the two month rotation. During that time, his sleep would be filled with vivid nightmares which woke Jesse each hour of the night. The interrupting sleep caused his waking thoughts to be filled with guilt and grief; his emotions had become raw and constantly burned, much like rubbing salt in a cut which constantly gets ripped open after scabbing over. This stage was the one Jesse dreaded the most and, despite all his attempts (including heavy duty sleeping pills), could not prevent from occurring.

**Stage 2**: Stage two, also known as 'Insomnia', lasted for a period of two and a half weeks and consisted of an insomnia that would eventually numb his emotions. This numbing completed itself at the end of the first week; a week which Jesse always prayed went by as quickly as possible. The first week of this stage was the hardest of all the sleepless nights Jesse experienced, but eventually he would be left in a state of unconscious awareness; he is not awake, and yet he is not asleep. Jesse would ultimately become a walking zombie for the remainder of that stage.

**Stage 3**: Stage three, also known as 'Delirium', similar to insomnia in the sense that Jesse is awake for the entire process; however, stage three differed in both length and mental processes. The length of stage three was shorter by approximately a week; stage three lasted for a week and six days to be precise, and Jesse had always been precise. In addition, during stage three his mental processes became greatly hindered. Not only would a state of hallucination and confusion be placed upon him, but his body slowed immensely, and his physical exertion had become the only activity which kept him alert during the day time (thankfully his career as a Broadway actor required a lot of physical activity). Jesse's appetite had become affected when a fear of eggs arrived during the second day of this stage. This stage would be immediately followed by stage four, which came with an abrupt entrance.

**Stage 4**: Stage four, also known as 'Mental Breakdown', a period lasting one day, consisted of regular activity. Jesse would always be prepared and leave rehearsal or wherever he would be early, and spend the rest of his time suffering from a severe emotional breakdown. He would cry until he could no longer feel any liquid within his body, then he would have three glasses of water, and resume his tears. Eventually he would drift into a long fourteen hour nap.

**Stage 5**: Stage five, also known as 'Jesse's favourite stage', became a time in which Jesse finally felt normal. Despite it being consistently too short, this two week period was the only time in which Jesse had a regular sleep pattern. Eight hours of nightly sleep, a daily early morning start, followed by a daily routine. However, after the first week, Jesse's emotions would slowly resurface and his guilt would emerge as well. After a week of having his senses back, his nightmares would begin again, and the cycle would start anew.

* * *

Disclaimer:

I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS (except Matt, the blonde, and eventually a girl named Rylie)

Author's Note:

There are a few things that must be understood. Firstly this is my first fic in a while, and yes it will be a chapter-ed fic. As you know it is a future fic. I want it to be known, the egging did not happen as in the TV show. I also want it to be known that **ALL** the information of their high school romance will be revealed in time.

Second I left Jesse's sleep cycle as a "reference," much like JRR Tolkien does with his stories and how he has the maps at the back of the book. I will be referring to that cycle in the story every once in a while. So, if i say "Jesse was in stage 3 of his cycle" you might want to read what stage 3 is when you come across it, or beforehand so you are prepared like a boy/girl scout.

Thirdly, I really hope you guys like this, please review. It motivates me to write faster. I do ask you be respectful with the reviews, but if you have any feedback I do want to hear it, good or bad. I love to learn from my readers, and I try to do the same when I review.

AND FINALLY Please check out Common Ground by Gottabeelove. I am her BETA, and she is mine. Her work is FANTASTIC so check it out.

(THIS WILL BE A M FIC IN THE LATER CHAPTERS. I TRY TO MAKE IT AS TASTEFUL AS POSSIBLE BUT IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY 'LEMONS' (which I just recently learned meant sex scenes) PLEASE DO NOT READ THE LATER CHAPTERS. I will mark off which chapters have lemons in them for you if you do want to read it but avoid them.)


	2. Chapter 1: The Pitch

**Chapter 1**

**The Pitch  
**

**

* * *

**

Rachel sighed as she glanced at the clock on her bedside table for the third time that hour. It had been another rough night, and at 5:46 A.M was ready for daybreak to make its arrival. The kind of erratic sleep she had experienced during the previous evening was not out of the ordinary for Rachel. In fact, since she had been a sophomore at McKinley High School, her constant sleep disturbances became a part of her nightly routine.

"I guess I should get a move on," she whispered and quietly climbed out of bed, slipping into her silk robe. Her feet patted gently across the cream carpet of her bedroom as she made her way to the window that had been left open a crack. A cool breeze blew through, circulating the stuffy heated air around her body; Rachel's teeth chattered as a shiver raked through her and she peeked down at the busy street below.

Although the sun had not yet risen, the city still filled the sleeping quarters with the sounds of screaming sirens, impossibly loud shouting and an indefinable pounding that rattled the walls. Rachel watched from her window as cars zoomed down the roads, honking at the pedestrians that attempted to jaywalk too early. The lights of the city, which still shined brightly in the early morning sky, reflected in the sidewalks that were still damp with the rain from the previous night. The noise, however, as earth shattering at it seemed, had not assisted in her early waking.

Rachel had almost expected herself to awake from the same vivid nightmare; even before her alarm had a chance to ring, her dream managed to coax her out of bed. Whether it was a few minutes or a few hours, every time her eyelids drifted shut and she allowed her mind to be submerged by the slumber that she desperately craved, Rachel seemed to be presented with _his_ face glowing against the empty backdrop, and this morning was no different.

It was a face that shook Rachel out of her slumber; it was words that whispered in her dreams and forced her out of bed. The voice, which only came when she slept, sang the sweetest melody and drove her from the comfort of Finn Hudson's arms each night. It acted like a siren call, begging her to join him in song; it was the very voice that lingered in her mind and had only grown stronger with each recent nightly visit. A stray tear drop slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand before closing the window and glancing over at Finn, who was still asleep in the heated cocoon she had once been tangled in.

Rachel allowed a laugh to escape her lips when Finn snorted in his sleep, and she suddenly realized that the closing window would not have disturbed him. He had miraculously slept through the racket just a few stories below and much to her dismay, he had also managed to sleep through her constant stirring. Rachel found herself on the floor several times during the night, due to her shifts in positions; she shook, kicked, talked, and even sang in her sleep before finally awaking. _The sound of a slamming window frame would be like a lullaby to Finn_, she thought as she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Passing by the movie posters that covered the walls of the hallway leading to the living room only caused her heart to ache more; each step she took down the dreadful passage reminded her of the shattered dreams that haunted her waking hours. Rachel had allowed Finn to convince her that the movie posters plastering the walls were a more dignified artwork than the Broadway play posters she would have much rather enjoyed. _Old School_, _Road House, Varsity Blues _and _The New Guy_ greeted her instead of _Evita_, _West Side Story_, _Phantom of the Opera,_ and _Rocky Horror Picture Show_, and she could not help but feel as though she had betrayed her true calling further.

It had been a year since Rachel left Tisch, but she had yet to land a respectable role on the theatre stage, the one place she felt at home. She had spent the year after graduation going to countless auditions, even attempting to land a minor chorus role where she would stand in the back and sway, but nothing had ever happened. No call had ever come. No part had ever been offered to her. She had left school with a degree in the craft she loved, and no one wanted to use her immense talent. Not performing was a concept not only foreign to Rachel, but completely terrifying, and each time she glanced down the hallway, that concept became fresh in her mind once more.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Rachel lowered her eyes and hurried past the large photos that hung up with tape and thumbtacks towards the kitchen, dreading the thoughts that would take over her mind if she lingered. To be honest, Rachel was depressed. She had spent a year of her life getting nowhere with auditions and her failed attempts at acting had resulted in a dependence on Finn's salary.

His photos only brought in a hundred dollars at the most, which was hardly enough to afford food. Rachel pushed the idea of acting out of her mind since she was unable to get a job anywhere in the city, and, with financial pressure, it had just seemed reasonable that she earn some sort of income to help support the household they shared. So, when Finn suggested she work somewhere other than a theatre, Rachel got a job at O'Leary's Bar and Grill, successfully placing her dreams of Broadway stardom on hold and sending her into a downward spiral of longing and misery.

It had surprised her friends when she informed them that she so easily put her dreams on hold at Finn's request, however logical working at the diner instead of acting may have seemed. Normally she would be full of ambition and enthusiasm, striving to get a role in the first show that would offer her a spot on the cast. Those closest to her saw a change in her demeanour; placing Finn's ambitions ahead of hers was something that had been so out of her character. They all suspected the rejection hit her pretty hard, but they had no idea that Rachel had convinced herself that she had failed in achieving the career she strived for, and could only watch in an envious melancholy as Finn strived for his.

Rachel rummaged through the cupboards and grabbed a mug, setting it gently on the counter before filling the kettle with water. Like any college student at Tisch, she had become addicted to coffee. It was the only substance that had gotten her through the long hours of studying and rehearsing while she attended the school, and that addiction carried on after graduation. With the sleep that had her dreams consistently been ripped away from her, and the lengthy working hours at the restaurant, Rachel needed to have at least one cup of coffee to keep her going through her day and to keep her mind off the broken dreams she longed to fulfill.

She poured herself the daily dose of caffeine that she required and walked to the living room. With only two free hours before Finn woke up and they both made their way to their respective jobs, Rachel decided that relaxation was vital. She wanted an hour to calm her mind before dealing with the demands of the double shift along with the demands of her boyfriend.

Each time Rachel had brought up the idea of acting to Finn, he would become slightly insulted. A fight that sounded like World War Three would result most of the times, and Rachel would ultimately be reminded of her previous failures, along with the issues of time and money, something that she and Finn had very little of. The idea of landing a role sent mixed emotions through her mind; while acting made her feel whole, the pursuit of her dreams would harm Finn's career, so Rachel worked as a waitress instead.

Once she began working at O'Leary's, Finn's contributions to the household had slowly started to dwindle. He became focused on his career, his ambition for photography mimicking her previous ambition for acting; Finn spent most of his pay cheques on tickets to sporting events he had to be in attendance for. Since Rachel's pay had been far steadier and surprisingly more profitable than Finn's salary, her assistance to his ambitions began financially, just as Finn had done with for Rachel. As upset as Rachel was about her career, her support had to be unconditional. After all, Finn's support during _her_ year was unconditional. So, to pay for most of the living conditions, along with Finn's entrance to most of the games he had attended, Rachel began working full time. And then overtime.

The sunlight had begun to seep through the large windows of the living room as Rachel walked into the room while taking a sip of her coffee. The white curtains allowed the light to bleed through the fabric and illuminate most of the apartment. She took a seat in front of her laptop, which rested on the coffee table, and placed her cup down on a coaster before glancing at the time. Only fifteen minutes passed since she had left a sleeping Finn but she would soon have to deal with the rude morning crowd.

Rachel yawned and relaxed into the couch, letting her head fall backwards to rest against the cushions. Her exhaustion finally seemed to win as her eyes fluttered closed and she drifted into a light slumber. Her mind was still conscious to her surroundings allowing her thoughts to circle as she began reminiscing over the better times in her life: her younger years.

Rachel descended further into her thoughts as she recalled her life. Her time in high school played like an old movie in her mind; the film reel seemed all scratched and torn as it projected in a fast forward across her lids. How unappreciated she was still stung her greatly, but when she still rose to conquer the show choir circuit in both her junior and senior year, allowing her to receive a scholarship out of Ohio, the burn was immediately numbed by excitement. She recalled her journey to New York with Finn and her years in college much more thoroughly, as the film strip, with all its blemishes, continued to spin through the projector.

She and Finn had gotten back together at the end of her senior year, and he had followed her to the Big Apple after he discovered a love of photography. The first two years Rachel spent in Tisch only fueled Rachel's desire for acting, while Finn's love of sports and taking photographs drove him to contact the newspapers in hopes of landing a job as a famous sports photographer. Rachel had immersed herself in her singing and acting, perfecting her voice and the control she had over her emotions; a control she needed to hide her exhaustion. She had often sung to Finn while he learned to develop photographs at the community center near her campus and the two had a gotten into a good rhythm, both striving for excellence in the field that held their passions.

Good fortune had been bestowed upon them during the summer that followed Rachel's second year of college when the couple had moved into a two-bedroom apartment that her fathers paid for. The apartment was a gift to Rachel for being such a dedicated student and actress. Both she and Finn were ecstatic that they had such a nice apartment to share; instead of having to rent a dirty studio apartment across town from Rachel's school, they paid her fathers for the utilities, as rent was not necessary.

In the middle of her third year of college, when Rachel was buried in both schoolwork and audition tapes, it seemed that Finn had finally got his big break. The _New York Post_ offered to buy one of his photographs, urging him to bring more. And bring more he did. Finn began to spend all his time working. He went to every sports game he could get tickets for, taking as many photos as he could. Finn would be locked up in the guest room, which Rachel managed to split into both a studio and a darkroom, developing all his film for hours. Finn had refused to allow Rachel to sing to him while he worked, naming her voice as a distraction from his future career and in the span of a month, the time that the couple spent together dwindled drastically.

Rachel barely saw her boyfriend, but the lack of quality time was not bothersome to her. She had been nearing the end of her final year of college and her schoolwork was taking up all of her waking time. The stress of her upcoming graduation rattled her nerves, resulting in a consistent need to be alone, and when graduation finally arrived, Rachel was slightly relieved. Her fathers flew in from Ohio to join Quinn and Puck at the ceremony, supporting Rachel proudly.

Unfortunately Finn was not in attendance; the big Knicks' game was at the same time as her graduation, and it was a game that he was unable to miss. Rachel took the news surprisingly well, brushing off her normal diva antics and supporting Finn's new found work ethic, which shocked both her family and friends. She celebrated her milestone with her best friends that evening, and went to bed dreaming of a better time.

"_Wait a minute and your eyes will adjust"_ _His_ words floated through her mind, and she sighed blissfully as she was taken deeper into her thoughts than she had intended to. _"You're shaking."_ Rachel felt his arm pulling her closer to him, his breath hot against her cheek as he guided her backwards to the pillows. The scent of his cologne and cedar filled her nose, and she instantly relaxed into the couch. _"Rachel, you don't have to whisper you know? We are just in the harbor."_ His laugh rang through her mind, acting like a siren, causing her eyes to shoot open.

"Not again," Rachel groaned and sat up straight as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She glanced at the clock once more, 6:30 am it read, and she reached for the remote, brushing the idea of sleep out of her mind since she knew it would be futile. Rachel flipped through the channels absently but her attention quickly turned to the flashing light of her laptop. She clicked the button of her mouse and was surprised to see a new message from her friend Rylie Graham.

_From: Rylie Graham_

_Subject: Best news ever. _

_Hey Rach,_

_It's been forever since we saw each other; two months to be exact and I'm hurt, nay wounded and mortified. _

Rylie and Rachel had been roommates in college during the first two years. They were in the same program for the first semester of their freshman year and had become close within a month. While Rachel chose to have her major in acting and anything theatre, Rylie had struggled to decide which major was a better option: writing theatre or acting it. Eventually Rylie dropped her acting dreams, but remained close with her friend even after graduation.

After college, Rylie continued to write but had eventually formed a band with three boys, who Rachel was not too keen on, while Rachel pushed to get herself on Broadway. Unfortunately for both girls, their dreams were not a success. Rylie and her band had fallen apart, and none of her plays saw the light of stage. She ended up getting a job as an assistant to a talented upcoming director: Arthur Hamel. Rachel landed in the unknown pile of failed actresses, and ended up working in the dark dingy bar that passed her time, still waiting for that big break, which slowly seemed to slip further from her grasp.

_You still have not come to see the material I have written (Ouch). I would love to get your opinion on it, I have some harmonies I am having issues with and the melodies are just spastic at times._

Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled. She and Rylie had always clashed on musical tastes, but when they combined their talents the result was always beautiful. It was an interesting mix of blues and theatre, which Rachel assumed Rylie's new piece would consist of_._

The two still got together on occasion, but not like they had when they attended school. Writing to each other constantly was their best way of staying in the contact, since their hectic schedules made meeting up more difficult than they imagined, and they took full advantage of it. They listed the events of their daily lives in great detail making sure the other was aware of exactly what was happening with one another. She was intrigued as she continued to read the update from her friend.

_Listen, you know this isn't about MY work._

This triggered Rachel's interest further.

_I told you a while ago I was working with Arthur Hamel right? Well I got some great news for you: he is opening a new show! _

_It is close to you and so far no one has been cast as the female lead. The male lead is very picky, and he keeps saying to the director "there is better out there, just you wait." He is actually a bit of an arrogant fuck-wit. He thinks he is the best thing to hit the stage since the stage itself and he no doubtingly thinks he is god's gift to the world; to his defense he is __**extremely**__ talented. The BEST male lead I have ever seen. I would probably cast him as the leading man in any play I write. _

The more Rachel read, the more entranced she became with Rylie's words. She knew Rylie very well, and the one thing Rachel knew best about her friend was that she would never have made a decision on casting before she had finished a piece; especially one she was yet to start. The only person that received that honor was Rachel, because Rylie had a mammoth amount of respect for Rachel's talent.

_He actually kind of reminds me of you, _

"What." Rachel mumbled under her breath, not caring that she was about to converse with an inanimate object. "I am not a fuck-wit, Rylie."

_Not in the bad way or anything, he has his good moments, don't get me wrong, Rach. The moments where you can see he just wants perfection and strives for it every bloody second that it makes you want to put a gun in your mouth; what I am trying to say is, he surprisingly has your... drive. _

"That's better." She spoke softly to the screen.

_Anyway, Arthur has been dying for a female lead and, _

"No, wait, and? No and. And is bad, very, very bad."

_I figured what better person than you, of course. AND..._

"Dear lord, there is that 'and' again."

_You will never guess what part it is, YOU WILL DIE. I will give you a hint... Freshman year, semester one ... our first play? Come on, Rach, you know this part like the back of your hand, or the palm of mind since I like to 'slap' you back into sense with my honesty._

Rachel finally let out the giggle she had been holding in the entire time. As panicked as she was with the direction the email had been taking, she could see the hilarity in the situation. Rylie's comedic way of breaking news along with the picture of how she must have looked slouched over, talking and shouting at the computer while praying to God, made it difficult for Rachel to contain her laughter. She also knew exactly what play Rylie was talking about it: it was the first production Rachel took part in at Tisch.

_You guessed it, Moulin Rouge!_

Rachel had been cast as Satine when she had auditioned, while Rylie played the part of the Moulin Rouge dancer Nini. Rachel could still hear their neighbors shouting at them through the walls as they sung Sparking Diamonds in their dorm room. The play had been one of Rachel's favorites, and she remembered all the lines, all the blocking, and all the emotions needed to pull the female lead off flawlessly.

_You have to come audition, Rachel; I already told Arthur about your Satine, which you and I BOTH know is perfect. You have to come in and audition._

Rachel groaned loudly in frustration. She had known that was going to be Rylie's request, a request that could not be fulfilled. This part, as much as she had adored it, would not be the one that Finn would agree too. If she even landed the role, Rachel would be playing a prostitute, which her boyfriend would not be happy about. Rachel was convinced that failure in acting once more would not only threatened her self-esteem, but Finn's career as well, and the sexuality in this play would act as icing on the cake of Finn's disapproval.

_It is at the Cannon Theatre, we are booked to rehearse there for the next two months, and I already signed your name up for an audition: this Thursday at 1:00pm. You cannot back out, Rachel, I am serious._

"What, no!" Rachel yelled at the screen and almost pushed the computer off the coffee table as she rose from her seat. "Damn you, Rylie, you always schedule things without asking me first," Rachel huffed and jumped over the sofa to grab her phone, which sat on the kitchen table. Not bothering to finish Rylie's email, she immediately started dialing her friend's number despite the early hour, and paced across the tile floor. "Finn is going to kill me. He is going to kill me," she repeated to herself as the rings persisted, but Rylie's machine clicked on much to her dismay.

_"This is Rylie, leave a message. Oh, and if this is Rachel," _There was a pause, which Rachel was sure was for dramatic effect, before Rylie's machine screamed through the earpiece of the telephone,_ "You will not back out!" _Rachel held the phone away from her head to ensure she did not lose her perfect pitch at the sound. Once Rachel heard the silence she brought the receiver back to her ear.

"Rylie Michelle Graham, how dare you do this to me again. I know you are there, I know it." Rachel completely disregarded her boyfriend, who lay asleep just down the hall as she stomped around the apartment, alternating between the kitchen and living room while yelling into the phone. "I will give you ten seconds to answer the phone before I start. 10, 9, Oh screw counting. " Rachel would have gasped at the curse that left her lips, but in the heat of the moment she really did not care. Rylie was the only person Rachel was comfortable to let loose around, and that included being vulgar with her vocabulary. "I told you before you cannot schedule me to come for an audition without asking me. How do you even have my head-shot? What if I had work, did you even think of that? Well, just to clarify, the answer is no. I am not going to be there. Finn would kill me, Rylie, he would KILL me and further—" Rachel was interrupted when she heard the phone answer and a very groggy voice come barreling through the silence.

"Listen, Rach, this is not up for a discussion. You are going to be there, I already know you are. You may say no now, but I told everyone at the theatre that if you called to cancel, they are, under no circumstances, allowed to grant your request." Rylie's words were filled with evident sleep, and she let out a quick yawn, allowing Rachel to interject.

"Rylie, you know I can't, please." Rachel was almost begging into the phone and she instinctively lowered her voice because of it.

"Rachel, you know that I won't take your name down. It is staying up there, which I think is for your own good." Rachel understood by the sound of the running water that Rylie had gone to get a glass of water. She immediately felt guilty about waking her friend at the early hour that she had, especially since Rylie's schedule began much later than Rachel's.

"What do you mean my own good?" Rachel whispered, dreading the answer for the knowledge of Rylie's impeccable sense of perception.

"I mean," The sarcasm slipped off her tongue as she spoke before she took a gulp of water and continued, "These are your dreams you are contemplating giving up, and I, as your friend, will not let you do that. You are far too good to let that dingus control your career actions."

"He's not a dingus, Rylie."

"You think what you want, but I am telling you he is a dingus." Rylie let out a defeated sigh as she climbed back into bed; she once again she had failed to prove to Rachel how badly her boyfriend was behaving. "Regardless, I know you very well. You cannot be late or miss anything, ever. So you might as well just give up on this 'I'm not going' crap because you are going."

"How do you know I don't have work that day?" Rachel asked as if a light bulb turned on in her mind. She never lied, especially to Rylie, but it had been her last minute resort.

"Since you said before 'What if I had work?' _Had_ being the operative word, I assume I picked the perfect day." Rachel had always claimed she was an honest person, but it was mainly because she was a horrible liar. She could play any role she wanted, her facade never slipping from anything short of perfection, but once Rachel tried to tell a lie as _Rachel Berry_, her face crumbled, the truth bleeding through the cracks. Her honest reputation managed to convince many that even the most ridiculous lie was the truth, and only a few who were able to see through her disguise; Rylie, Quinn, Puck, Kurt and _him_.

"Damn you and your perception." Rylie let out a laugh at Rachel's submission and pulled the blanket over her once more. She knew she had won; she knew Rachel would come to the audition and blow them all away. _I single handily kick-started the career of the newest Broadway star,_ Rylie thought arrogantly and beamed, knowing that she had been some sort of catalyst for Rachel's potential career.

"Now, I am going back to sleep, what are you doing up anyway?"

"None of your concern," Rachel answered sharply, the frustration present and threatening. "Rylie, I don't even know what I will do for the audition."

"Well, you better start working on that now shouldn't you?" Rachel could practically hear the smirk forming on her friend's lips as she spoke, a smirk that she found far too similar to the one that made her heart melt. "See you Thursday, Rach, 1:00pm sharp." And with that, the phone line went dead, leaving Rachel in a dumbfounded state of shock.

"What the hell am I going to do?" she asked herself as she flopped back on the couch. "It's Tuesday, I have work until midnight tonight, and Wednesday is Santana's engagement party. Finn is going to kill me." She dropped her head in her hands, and sighed.

She had to admit it, although Rylie's forceful help was unwanted, Broadway was calling her. Rachel's desire to audition burned within her soul. Her heart ached to be freed from the cage it had been placed in. Acting was her destiny, and fate had just shoved her back on the right path.

All she had to do now was convince Finn.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own glee. Just Rylie Graham, and maybe the plot, because they both came out of MY head.**

**Firstly. I am SO sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I ended up writing so much that I had to cut it into several chapters. I might be a bit long (this one) and I apologize if it drags on a bit with the "Rachel history" I just wanted to get it out of the way (as much of it as possible) so i didn't have to say the pointless history later. This is a Rachel chapter i know, next one will be Jesse. I am already working on it, and it is in the process of my edits. I would say it is nearing it's final draft before i send it to my editor.**

**for those Finn Fans out there, I apologize if you hate what I have/will be doing to him. I take him REALLY out of character. I frankly haven't been a fan of him with Rachel. I think he is too much of an opposite, and instead of complimenting her crazy, he just clashes far to much with her. But it is my opinion, and i am entitled to it.**

**Second. Please check out the story Common Ground by Gottabeelove. I am her Beta, and she is mine (though she didn't edit this chapter my sister did AND she ripped it to shreds so that's why it took so long). **

**Thirdly, please review, i would LOVE to hear feedback. Let me know what you like, what you don't like. What you want to happen maybe? I love reading reviews and they help me get ideas along with motivation.**

**As i said before next chapter is Jesse, for those who can't want to see him, and it will be up very soon!**


	3. Chapter 2: Fool to Believe

**Chapter 2**

Fool to Believe

The streets of New York City echoed with the voices of honking car horns caught in morning traffic, the incoherent shouting from venders trying to sell their merchandise, and the lonely footsteps of Jesse St James, who kept a steady beat in the background of the city's song. As he made his way down the busy sidewalk, the early morning sun burned his eyes, despite the black aviators he wore, and the crisp September air nipped at his bare cheeks causing them to redden slightly. He was yet to feel the cold fully, the lack of sleep numbing him to the elements, but when Jesse rounded the street corner, he instinctively pulled the collar of his jean jacket up higher, wrapped his arms around his chest and ducked his head down to protect himself. The cold, however, slowly seeped through the thick denim sleeves, finally sending a chill to his bones, and he quickened his pace, continuing his march to the one place that roused his senses: the stage.

Each time the curtains were pulled open and the attention of the audience fixated upon him, Jesse awoke, arising from the ashes of his broken self and igniting into a new person: the role he played. He immersed himself within his craft, refining even the most insignificant aspects of his assigned character, and delivering flawless rendition after flawless rendition. The different personalities he morphed into, and ultimately acting itself, had become not only his passion, but his entire life. The theatre was everything he lived for. It was the reason he got out of bed, the reason he left his apartment every morning, and as he glanced up at the theatre before him, he knew it was what he would be known for.

_I have to be known for it, _Jesse thought as he pushed through the heavy black doors that led into the lobby, breathing in the smell of success that lingered in the air. Many shows had started off in the Cannon Theatre prior to making their debut on the Great White Way and Jesse knew he was lucky to have his chance to perform on the same stage.

He often dreamed that his show would follow in the footsteps of the successful productions that had come before it and in turn he would then follow in the footsteps of the successful actors that came before him. Jesse prayed that everything he worked for, and everything he had given up, would be worth it once he was on Broadway, but as he took a breath, trying to inhale all the talent that passed through the room and absorbing it within his own skills, he knew he was fooling himself.

Letting out a sigh and pushing his regrets from the forefront of his mind, he crossed the lobby to enter the auditorium. It was not the first time Jesse walked through those doors. He had been working with director Arthur Hamel and his assistant for two months now and the three of them spent all of their time working on a revival of _Moulin Rouge!_; perfecting each scene, each song, and each line until each cast member was out of breath and overworked. They had worked themselves to exhaustion, and the female lead was yet to be cast, but every time Jesse took sight of the stage before him, despite the fatigue that drenched his muscles, he was awestruck and ready for more.

The soft light reflected gently off the chandelier crystals. The dark mahogany, carved with intricate designs, complimented the red velvet seats basking in the glow. The matching velvet curtains pulled back to allow a view of the small world he would become a part of; each second that passed as Jesse stood in this presence, he felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins. This moment was the only time where Jesse felt like his true self again.

With the sudden energy boost coursing through him, he allowed himself to forget of the guilt that racked his body and mind. He lost himself within the depths of his psyche, allowing the feelings of his memories to brush against his fingertips. He was wrapped in a daydream like bliss, slowly being drawn in by the temptress that lingered within his thoughts. This was the moment he felt his heart swell once more, and even if it was just for a split second, it felt like an eternity had been granted to him. _Rachel,_ Jesse's mind sighed as his eyelids fluttered closed and he drew in a breath. This was the moment he felt his love with him once again.

Her dark locks intertwined within Jesse's fingers, her breath was warm against his chest as it kept in soft time to his heartbeat. He almost let out a moan of pleasure as he felt her heat within his arms, her face nuzzling against him while she remained deeply buried in his embrace. Her soft lips melted against his, the sugary taste of her kiss drenching his palate, before peppering his neck with the same sweetness.

"_You're going to be amazing one day, Jesse."_ The words she told him long ago still sang through his thoughts so vividly, and her scent suddenly lingered within the surrounding air. He deeply inhaled the smell of her vanilla strawberry shampoo, while her melodic voice continued to whisper the reassurances, vibrating against his skin, telling him what he needed to go on. His hands roamed down her sides, feeling her curves beneath his palms, before wrapping around her lower back and pulling her closer. Soft raven hair tickled his face as she began making her way up to his earlobe, nibbling and sucking on the one spot that drove him wild.

"You're late, St. James." A familiar voice echoed, startling him out of his thoughts. Jesse's eyes, however, remained tightly shut; he refused to let this moment slip away. He desperately tried to remain within the Eden he had created, holding onto the ecstasy which manifested around him, and struggling to keep the woman he had memorized within his arms. "Jesse?" the voice boomed off the walls, coming from the director's table that sat a few rows from the stage. It rattled against his eardrums and he let out a hushed groan as the memories, which were burned into his mind, slowly faded into the surrounding reality.

"Until next morning my love," his voice was no louder than a whisper, before he reluctantly opened his eyes, awaking from his daydream. He glanced down the rows of chairs to meet the gaze of the director's assistant, who had begun to grow impatient. Her long light brown hair was tied into a bun and she stood with her hand on her hip, tapping her foot repeatedly against the deep red carpet that adorned the floor of the theatre. Her other hand held onto a large stack of papers that were enclosed within a cardboard folder. She kept a tight grasp on the folder, and Jesse let a small smirk slide across his lips knowing the reason of her unusual impatience.

"Not by my watch, Rylie," his retort was sharp, and he began marching down the path to meet her by the stage before giving her another of his trademark smirks. It was an arrogant grin he had perfected during his high school years; the same smirk that the ladies swooned over. It was the smile he longed to give to Rachel once more, knowing how she reacted to it. It turned her on in a way that could only be described as intense, but he knew it would not have the same affect on her anymore. His arrogant charm was tainted, and in turn so did his smirk. Jesse just had to settle for delivering it to the only other woman whom he cared about, Rylie Graham.

"You are thirty-six seconds late, whether you want to admit it or not," Rylie teased and pointed to her watch. When Jesse's brow furrowed, his eyes filling with a sting of disappointment, a smirk of her own flashed across Rylie's lips, one that rivalled his in both arrogance and confidence. She maddened Jesse with her egotism and at the same time, intrigued him immensely.

Jesse shook his head and stifled a laugh, quickly brushing past her while ducking his head to avoid meeting her gaze. She had been able to see through his layers so well that with only one look, Rylie instantly knew when he was lying, or acting, it was one of the reasons they had bonded so quickly, and the same reason he had to get away from her. She was able to find Jesse, the real Jesse, the broken Jesse, which sent a slight anger through his veins despite her comfort afterwards. He had worked on his 'show-face' for so many years, and with one look, Rylie destroyed it; only his love had also had that ability, and that was a similarity which interested him.

"Oh, ha ha, you are so funny," he called over his shoulder and made his way towards the backstage area. The brunette's hurried footsteps were heard through the hallway as she followed him around the corner; each step echoed loudly off the dark hardwood floor in her rush. He was in front of his dressing room door when she finally made it to him, her approach far from subtle as she called out loudly.

"Jesse wait—" but he interrupted Rylie before she had a chance to finish her sentence. He turned to face her, his hand still lingering over the door handle, and his voice filled with urgency.

"If we keep talking I really am going to be late. I have a costume fitting before rehearsal, Ry." His morning daydream was something he would rather not discuss with Rylie, so he opted to mimic her previous actions, in hopes that teasing would draw her away from the subject. He placed his other hand on his hip and tapped his foot impatiently, knowing that Rylie would be fully aware of his mockery, and she shot a hard glare at him.

"Look," Rylie paused, taking in a deep breath, and the serious dramatics of her actions earned her the softening of Jesse's exterior shell, "I've been trying to get Arthur to look at my script, and he is just so busy with his work."

He immediately unlocked the dressing room door and entered, gesturing for her to follow him inside. Jesse knew the magnitude of the discussion they were about to have, at least to her. A discussion of Rylie's ambitions for her future career would preferably be done in a more private setting.

Rylie hesitated for a moment before she followed him inside and took the seat in the empty chair next to the entrance. Jesse peeled off his jacket and hung it on the hook behind the door, before nodding for her to continue. "There are a few scenes that are just not perfect," her voice trembled with an obvious nervousness as she attempted to pick the precise words that would gain his assistance. "I know you know your stuff, so can you please look at one of my scenes? I guess you would say I need a male lead's opinion."

The two had formed an interesting friendship, getting close to one another through teasing and harmless insults which were often soothed with words of wisdom and underhanded compliments. Although Rylie had never asked his advice until now, she had discussed her play with Jesse daily; the very script that she had claimed, on more than one occasion, would 'skyrocket her to success, and Tony's'. Jesse would never admit it aloud but he knew that was an enviable conclusion for Rylie. She was born for success, of that he was sure.

Rylie may have been one of the most infuriating writers he had ever met, but talent seeped from her every pore, almost mimicking his own. He could smell it as it radiated off her, which assisted him in gaining the utmost respect for the woman. Despite being in a different field of theatre, Jesse envied her keen eye for detail within any production she had witnessed, or participated in; it was a keen eye that had come in handy during the deconstruction and reconstruction of "_Moulin Rouge!" _and she not only had a talent for writing and production; she had a talent in performing as well. Rylie had a massive knowledge of music theory and she could play almost every instrument she picked up. The lyrics she wrote accompanied her music so perfectly, and her voice was truly incredible, but in no way comparable to Rachel's.

"Sure," Jesse winked as he stepped behind the partition to change. Rylie let out a sigh of relief, her nerves suddenly dissipating. He understood how desperate she was for an opinion on her piece and was glad that she would ask someone with actual talent to glance at it. Her relief, however, soon changed to annoyance as Jesse spoke again with amusement. "But since I am lacking in time with all the work I have to do," She rolled her eyes at his teasing, "You have to do something for me?"

"I am not fulfilling any sexual fantasies, Jesse."

"None whatsoever?" He laughed and she huffed at his question. Jesse could not resist taunting her; he loved to see her squirm a little, just as she loved to torture him mercifully. It was the dynamics of their friendship, and Jesse had to have some fun here and there with it. "You have to admit I am superior in talent first." He glanced out the side of the partition as he gave Rylie his demand, watching her face morph from annoyed to horrified, in what seemed like a split second.

"No. I'd rather die." She rose from her seat, arms crossed over her chest, her script still firmly in her hand, as she attempted to storm out dramatically.

"Do it, or no help." He expected steam to start whistling out of her ears as stopped mid-step after he had called out of her. Jesse could almost see the anger starting to bubble within her belly. It was the same anger that had gotten her into many heated arguments, that both of them would have rather avoided. It was the same rage that had resulted with Jesse getting a black eye in an attempt to protect the opinionated woman from a burly biker she had accused of driving 'the worst motorcycle known to man.' It was an anger that however much Jesse teased, he never achieved to have inflicted upon him, until now.

"You are impossible, you know that!" she hollered as he stepped out, dressed as Christian, the clothes hanging far too loosely. Jesse was so wrapped up in his own shame of irritating one of his closest friends that he missed the amusement which danced in her eyes.

"Alright, alright" His arms were raised in surrender as his eyes met with the brunette's and he finally noticed the rage that had burned within the girl eased by his attempts of apology. "I'll help without praise. I hate to see you get all squeaky."

"Thanks, Jesse," she said sheepishly, taking her seat once again.

"What's with you?" He asked calming, running a hand through his curls; it was so unlike her to be submissive when it came to their banter. Rylie never missed an opportunity to argue with Jesse, since he was her favourite person to bicker with. Her sudden surrender confused Jesse to no end, and he was starting to worry about the woman before him.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm perfectly fine." Rylie said in an attempt to keep a mask of anger up and avoid Jesse's question. She had mastered the art of avoiding. She avoided her obvious feelings for Arthur Hammel, both the director of the production, and her boss. She avoided discussions about her script, but now her facade, however impressive it was, was one that Jesse saw through, making her evasion futile.

"Rylie, you'd never give up the chance to argue, and me calling you 'squeaky,' would definitely earn some sort of impressive comeback." Rylie's gaze met his, "It's the best part of working with you, and now you're ruining that." Jesse grabbed his makeup chair out from under the table and took a seat facing her.

"I just had a rough morning." She sighed in defeat as his eyes narrowed, skeptical on her excuse. "Look, I got woken up at six a.m. to the sound of a hysterical drama queen. I'm just tired, and stressed about this production." She spoke in a rush, and Jesse nodded in understanding. There was obviously more to the phone call, but he knew what it felt like to go without sleep. With that in mind, Jesse began to feel terrible for irritating Rylie that morning, especially with a sensitive topic such as her script.

"Need help with the female lead too?" he offered, and successfully changed the topic to lighter subject matter. "Seeing as the play hasn't got one for you to pester yet, I would only assume you want my expertise on the other parts in your script." She finally let a full blown laugh escape her lips at his remark, and his smile grew with delight, knowing that his teasing had brightened her day.

Jesse hated seeing Rylie upset. She had become the only female who he managed to remain good friends with, and he looked upon her as if she was his family. Rylie was the only woman, other than Rachel, who ever truly cared about him. Normally women only spoke to him with the hopes that their brief discussion would magically morph into an intimate relationship, but Rylie was different. She had become a confidante of his, and that relationship blossomed into a strange, yet beautiful friendship.

"No, I'm gonna ask Rachel," Jesse's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope that Rylie had thankfully missed. _Rachel, God I miss you._ He allowed his mind to focus on every word that left Rylie's mouth about this 'Rachel.'

"A friend of mine," she added before walking over to the bar fridge on the opposite side of the dressing room. She pulled the miniature door open, and grabbed two bottles of water from inside, tossing one over to Jesse. The moment Rylie said _her_ name Jesse had to know as much as he could.

"Oh, is she a female lead?" he asked casually before taking a sip of the water, hoping the answer was yes. He knew that the chance of Rylie's Rachel being his Rachel was slim to none, but his curiosity still took over every natural instinct.

"The best I know." That was what put him over the edge. 'The best.' Rachel was the best, and with Rylie's eye for theatre being on par, if not higher, than Jesse's, he knew that 'the best' had to be her. "She'll be cast as the lead once this thing hits Broadway," Rylie's voice was laced with pride, and Jesse excitement reached a whole new level.

"If it ever does." He laughed, and she hit him playfully with the stack of papers.

"_What if it's not her?" _Jesse nearly groaned out load as his mind snapped him back to sensible logic. _"How many Rachels are there in New York?" _the voice continued, his negative train of thought acting like a pin and destroying his balloon of optimism with a loud mental BANG.

"That one wasn't nice. Do you want me to put in a word to Arthur about cutting some of your lines, Christian?" Rylie threatened, while she pointed to his outfit, and his eyes widened in shock. "I can. I will. And you know it. I am very vengeful." Jesse immediately began begging for forgiveness, literally dropping to his knees and grabbing hold of her ankles.

"I'm sorry your masterpiece will see the light of stage. That I'm sure of."

"As am I," she said smugly trying to kick Jesse off her feet. Her attempt proved useless, since his arms were wrapped around Rylie's legs so tightly that she could hardly move.

"You're sorry? Really, that is so unlike you." The sarcasm dripped off his tongue and a shy smile graced her lips.

"No, and for God's sake, get off the floor, Jesse, grovelling is really not becoming on you." Rylie tugged on his far from fitted suit jacket and he slowly got off the ground and took his seat. "I'm sure that my masterpiece will see Broadway," Her voicing trickled with confidence as she corrected him.

"Well, it's inevitable," he mumbled under his breath, as he nervously ran a hand through his golden curls. Rylie let a gasp filling the silence. She clutched her chest in surprise before her face beamed and her lips curved upward into a small smile and Jesse could not help but notice the difference between her and Rachel at that moment. When he had told Rachel that for her, Broadway was an inevitability, a smile graced her lips, her large voice suddenly went missing, and she basked in the compliment. Rylie, on the other hand, was far more comical with her response.

"I am also sure you say that to all the ladies." She laughed and he stiffened at her words. _Did Rach come to the same conclusion that Rylie just had?_

"No, actually," he corrected defensively, and Rylie raised a questioning eyebrow at him causing Jesse to lower his voice. He glanced down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting and picking at one another. "I've only said it to one other person."

"Who?" Her face filled with excitement and interest. She had never seen Jesse with anyone before. The idea of someone winning Jesse's heart filled her with an evident interest, and she knew that it was someone who held meaning in his life.

"It's not important," he contradicted the obvious, rising from his seat and glancing in the mirror. He wanted to avoid looking at the fascinated girl next to him. In instances such as these, every time he was under her gaze Jesse felt like a college science experiment being dissected under Ms. Graham's watchful eye.

"Jesse, who?" she begged, and received a glare in response. "Is it a guy?" she questioned further and Jesse threw his water bottle at her. She sat in silence for a few passing seconds when she lit up with a solution. "Your part is on the line, Jesse," Rylie sang in a singsong melody and tapped her fingers against the folder which sat comfortably on her lap.

"Rachel Berry," he sighed out and shifted his attention back to Rylie, whose jaw literally dropped. "She's a girl I knew from Ohio," he explained a little further.

"Um I... hmm..." She paused, her stammering captivating Jesse even further. Jesse's eyes locked on her when she began stumbling over her words, something that Rylie never did. "Nothing, I think, well maybe not." She finally spoke with a little more coherency, the anxiety getting the best of her vocal abilities, and her eyes filled with a fear that Jesse had seen once before.

"Rylie, what is going on? I know that look." It was the same look she got when she tried to speak to Arthur Hammel about anything other than the production. _Rylie Graham is nervous,_ Jesse thought, and would have smirked along with the thought if she was not nervous over something related to Rachel Berry.

"She's Rachel, my Rachel." At this, Jesse nearly went catatonic with happiness. _I have a link to her_, was all he could think. He could find out about her, how she was, what plays she performed in. He had a bond to all of that, and Rylie was that key element in the chain. He nearly jumped for joy, until Rylie spoke once more, "Oh my god, you are HER Jesse. You are the evil spineless dick aren't you, egg man." Jesse winced at the mention of his past, but he recovered quickly, thoughts of Rachel overpowering every aspect of his brain. He was not going to lose this connection; no way in hell was he going to let that happen.

"How do you know Rachel?" pressing the subject further and Jesse still did not move from his spot opposite Rylie, who was in a full on panicked frenzy. His stomach began to bubble with a similar feeling. Whatever had Rylie all stirred up seemed to be contagious.

"Does it matter!" she yelled as she jumped from her chair, instantly becoming eye level with him. Jesse could see the gears turning in Rylie's mind; she was sizing him up, measuring whether he would do more harm. By her previous comment he was sure that she knew his history with Rachel, but his future with Rachel was in Rylie's hands now.

"Yes, just tell me, Rylie." His eyes pleaded with her, but she was yet to speak. "Please, you know I'm not that evil to not have done anything without a purpose." It seemed that Rylie did not even process what Jesse had said, because she immediately continued vocalizing her inner ramblings.

"Oh Jesse, I cannot believe I did this to her, I didn't know I swear." She began to pace hurriedly and Jesse could not even focus on what she had said after the first ten seconds of nonstop ramblings. She was going to wear a hole in the hardwood, and her movements were starting to make him dizzy.

"What, Rylie!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her back into sense, as he yelled, and she stared at him blankly. "What did you do and what does this have to do with Rachel Berry?"

"She _was_ my college roommate, and she _is_ my best friend." Jesse let go of her shoulders, his hands falling to his sides, and Rylie collapsed into the chair by the door once again. Her head dropped into her hands, but Jesse's focus remained on her; he could not miss a word of what Rylie was about to say. "She's the Satine I have been raving about," she muttered out, barely audible, but Jesse heard it.

Suddenly all the pieces of the panicked jigsaw puzzle clicked into perfect place, _Satine?_ Jesse thought as he slowly figured it all out. He was not only going to have a link to her, he was going to be working with her. Rachel freaking Berry was coming to his theatre. He was going to hold her again. Every night he was going to kiss her, and begin to make love to her, even if it was just in character.

"She's coming to audition." It was not a question, but Rylie responded with a nod, and Jesse collapsed into his seat, his shocked stare never wavering from hers. They both sat in silence, both astonished for what seemed to be hours before Rylie's eyes lit up with a sparkle of brilliance that Jesse had seen before.

It was the same look she got when she was inspired to write a new scene, or had discovered a new way to portray the blocking. She had an idea, and from what it seemed it was the best idea she could have ever thought of. Jesse's stomach turned at the thought of it involving both he and Rachel. An idea of bringing two star-crossed lovers falling back into each other's lives, restoring happiness and love to both Rachel and Jesse's hearts, would only lead to something dangerous. She glanced over at Jesse, who sat with a dumbfounded look upon his face, as he ran his hand through his hair nervously, and smiled softly.

Rylie knew what kind of man Jesse had become, and he was sure she knew the emotion underneath his "show-face" was sincere and honest love. Love for Rachel Berry, the one friend who Rylie had not spoken of. Or had she?

His mind traveled over their conversations, his thoughts running through his head a mile a second as he remembered every word spoke between them. He prayed that Rachel was not the friend Rylie hoped would overcome the misery that surrounded her. Jesse only wanted better things for Rachel. A greater type of happiness than him was the reason he had left in the first place. Had he known that Rachel would be in misery the rest of her life, he would have stayed and ensured that she achieved her dreams, and did not let that "dingus of a man push her around all the time." Rylie's voice echoed in his mind as he recalled the last conversation they spoke of regarding the friend she worried about the most.

Rylie let out a sigh before arising. She grabbed her script, which had fallen on the floor during the panic, and gingerly placed it on the table of Jesse's dressing room. Taking one last look around the room, Rylie began walking towards the exit, the smile that formed on her lips still dazzling her face.

"You better not hurt her again, Jesse," she called from over her shoulder before heading down the hall to meet Arthur. Jesse was left alone in the empty room to ponder over what she said; praying that whatever she had planned would not send them into a downward spiral of disaster. His head finally dropped within his hands, his costume fitting forgotten, and his love taking over the forefront of his mind.

That was the first time Jesse was late for anything.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own glee, or Moulin Rouge. I just own the plot, Rylie Graham and Arthur Hammel.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
**

**I am so sorry it took so long, but as you can tell it was worth it (by the length alone). **

**I wanted to give you guys some Jesse, and next chapter will have both Rachel and Jesse! yay! unfortunately they are not in the same scene yet *sad face***

**I am sorry for the long times in between updates, but I am trying to make each chapter absolutely perfect, because I feel that is what St. Berry deserves. It is also why there is such immense detail, but I do feel that the detail it is slowing the pace down a bit, so next chapter I promise there won't be as much.**

**Anyway, ****Let me know what you guys think, I love to hear your opinions on this story, since they help me write. Reviews inspire me :D.**

**Also please check out Common Ground by Gottabeelove. I am her Beta and I wrote a scene in the last chapter, which should be up soon if not already.  
**

**AN IMPORTANT NOTE:**

** I have adopted a story called the Power of Music by The Heartless Harlot. It is another St. Berry fic, so please check that out when I post my chapter. I promise it won't interfere with this story.**


	4. Chapter 3: Hindi Sad Diamonds  Part One

**Chapter 3 – Hindi Sad Diamonds - Part One**

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There was a heavy rain rushing down on the Big Apple when Rachel Berry finally finished her double shift that evening. Her boot heals clicked hurriedly through the large puddles that started to flood the streets, splashing water as she merged seamlessly with the busy sidewalk traffic on her walk home. She narrowly avoided getting knocked over by speeding pedestrians several times as she rounded the corner leading away from her work, but Rachel hardly noticed the bustle. All the surrounding bystanders running to escape the strong shower blurred with the rain that fell around her. It was as if Rachel was walking through a waterfall, and the feeling was surprisingly comforting.

Rachel's world was taken over by the fluid pouring from the clouds, soaking her coat and hair. The sound of the passing cars and hasty footsteps were drowned out by the water splattering against the pavement. The splatter seemed to silence all the chaos that 'tornado-ed' around her, but she could not care less because as the downpour engulfed her senses, Rachel felt free.

The rain was a strange type of cleansing for her. It clouded the distractions which took place outside her mind as well as the thoughts that generated the uncertainty within her, and as Rachel sped along the surprisingly settled sidewalk, a sudden security surged through her. In the waterfall induced silence, Rachel was beginning to find the confidence that she had hid away long ago.

Although it was dark out, the journey back to her apartment building was lit up with a sparkle that shone brighter that the stars. 'She was a star and she knew that one day she would be.' This was the motto of her former confidence. A confidence that was always tangled with a guiding light: hope. As she moved down the street, without having to push anyone out of the way, that strange sense of hope rushed over Rachel like a tidal wave.

She slowed her pace; longing to linger within the cool downpour, and feeling her mind lighten with each drop that landed on her already drenched skin. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, and her steps faltered just briefly as a nearly forgotten memory flashed under closed lids. A breath caught in her throat as the smell of fresh rain triggered his face, but this time, unlike her usual reaction, Rachel wanted to remember. She wanted to feel and taste all she yearned for.

Tilting her head back, Rachel caught the raindrops on her tongue, licking her lips as water dripped from her brow. She savoured the taste, and focused her mind on imagining the combination of his flavour with the rain. She wanted to blend the bitter water with the sweet kiss that stained her lips 'till this day. Her hands curled into fists at her side, feeling the wet strains of his bronze hair threaded through her fingers.

"Jesse," She sighed as she dropped her head. She swore the tingles that raced up her spine were not caused by the cool air. _I know that you are here _she thought as the heat of his hands ran up her sides, pulling her closer to his warmth and causing her already rosy cheeks to blush. Rachel could feel his reaction to their passion pressed against her. She felt his breath against her skin as he whispered his love into her neck. His tongue danced down her collarbone as he sucked and kissed the tender tingling flesh, and Rachel swore Jesse was there. He had to be, he had to have felt the powerful emotions flowing through the air, right?

Another shiver coursed through her body, and she opened her eyes. Rachel stood alone in the empty sidewalk, feeling refreshed for the first time in a while with a smile persistent on her lips. It was as if her thirst was finally quenched after decades of walking through a desert; her desert however, was metaphorical, unlike her Jewish ancestors' journey through the Sinai desert for forty days and nights. Rachel let out a soft laugh at the thought of her Jewish roots and her dramatic comparison. _He never would have let that one down _she thought before forcing herself to continue down the sidewalk and up the stairs to her apartment; images of golden curls and blue pools swimming lingering in her mind.

* * *

"St. James!" A loud voice boomed through the auditorium. It echoed off the walls, drawing Jesse back to his surroundings. "Earth to St. James, you with us now?" Arthur Hammel's voice was full of frustration, and as Jesse glanced around at all the actors who stared at him with a very shocked expression blanketing their faces, he immediately understood what had happened. Jesse St. James froze during a performance.

It was something that Jesse never thought was possible. He was always brilliantly in character and never missed his cue, but this was not some forgotten line, or missing blocking sequence. Jesse St. James was frozen completely. He sat there in front of the desk, wearing the hat he was suppose to set down, hands hovering over the keys of the typewriter which was currently over flowing with freshly printed paper. It was not only concerning, it was absolutely horrifying. Letting out a sigh, Jesse nodded before meeting the gaze of his director, Arthur Hammel.

"I'm just a little tired Arthur, sorry. It won't happen again." Jesse swallowed audibly before setting the hat on the desk and regaining his character, willing Christian to come back to him. He heard the surrounding cast members whispering their hushed concerns, but all he could focus on was the paper in front of him. His hands were shaking at the sight of the words before him, and he could not understand what was going through his mind as he wrote this. Jesse's whole body had reacted to some unknown sensation that pummelled through his mind like a Mac truck, and he did not know where it came from.

"Take five." A female voice demanded, ringing through the air, and Jesse's head snapped up, locking his gaze with Rylie Graham. He watched as Arthur nodded towards her, and left the auditorium with the rest of the actors present before Rylie made her way up the stage steps. "Jesse?" Her tone was questioning, and Jesse's head dropped in shame.

"I don't know Rye," his voice was soft and uncertain as he answered the unspoken question, his hands running over the papers which littered the desk.

"I've never seen you freeze like that." She said taking a seat on the empty chair opposite him. "You were doing amazing. Christian was there when you placed your coat on the chair, with a look of distress on your face. Then, you sat down, all in character might I add, but," she paused and he glanced up at her briefly before collecting all the papers that were scattered. "The minute your ass hit the chair, and you looked at the typewriter, it was as if you were possessed with some sort of demon. I have never seen anyone write that fast. The paper was flying out of that machine. I swear I thought the old thing was going to break at the rate you were typing."

He took a shaky breath scanning through the papers, reading what he thought would be a bunch of madness, his eyes widening with each page that dropped onto the table.

"I—I" He stuttered, unsure of how to explain the stream of consciousness that flowed through his mind.

"What did you write anyway?" She grabbed one of the fallen papers and began to read through it. _"Tilting her head back, Rachel caught the raindrops on her tongue, licking her lips as water dripped from her brow. She savoured the taste, and focused her mind on imagining the combination of his flavour with the rain." _She glanced up at him before finishing the page. "Oh, Jesse this is beautiful."

"I swear this is going to sound crazy." He ran his hands nervously through his hair, "I left my body." At his admission Rylie choked back a laugh.

"I am pretty sure everyone who was watching you knows that already."

"I was in the street with her. I had her pressed against me, I kissed her with all I fucking had, and I swear she kissed me back. I didn't want to stop Rye, but then Arthur," He sighed, and Rylie's eyes widened slightly in confusion as she sat in silence, "and I was back here staring at this stupid typewriter."

"Jess—"

"No," He stopped her before she could continue. "Just no. I don't want to talk about this right now. We have a scene to do. I promise it won't happen again. Let's just drop this." Rylie nodded before getting up and heading out the door of the auditorium to get the cast members. Taking another shaky breath, Jesse got up, straightened the stack of papers he wrote, and placed them neatly in his backpack before slipping his costume jacket on once again. Glancing back at the typewriter, he noticed the paper which lingered in the machine. He crossed the stage swiftly, reaching the desk in only two strides. His fingers hesitated before running along the edge of the page, drinking in the words that stained the white paper.

"_I still love you, Jesse."  
_

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own glee, or moulin rouge... just rylie and arthur hammel.**

**Author's Note:**

So sorry I didn't update in a while. I had to stay longer with my family and help take care of my grandfather. He is alright now though :D

This is a shorter chapter, yes, I am sorry for that, but I felt it better to post the chapter I have written in two parts because it was very long. I know they aren't together yet, but I am building up to it. I have the next chapter written, It just needs some editing and then it will be posted.

That audition is coming up, BUT first must come Santana and Brittney's engagment party.

Please review I would love to hear what you guys think!


	5. Chapter 4: Hindi Sad Diamonds Part Two

**Hey guys, sorry it took so long for this to go up. This chapter is really long, so i hope that makes up for the time it took for me to get this up. I wanted to show the difference between Finn and Jesse using the elements a little, that's why Hindi Sad Diamonds has two parts.  
This is one of my favorite chapters because it shows Rachel's support system greatly, and the effect Finn really has on her. Anyway... Please enjoy :).**

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Chapter 4 – Hindi Sad Diamonds – Part Two

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A smile dazzled Rachel's face as she walked up the last flight of stairs to her floor. During her shift, Rachel received hourly text message reminders from Quinn about Santana and Brittney's engagement party that evening. With O'Leary's being more crowded than usual, and the bad weather conditions, Rachel thought she would not be able to leave the restaurant, let alone attend the party. It made her a nervous wreck thinking that she would not be able to see her friends. The last thing Rachel wanted was for them to assume her support was not with them, but lucky for her, fate was on her side.

As she walked down the hallway towards her apartment, Rachel still had plenty of time to get ready for a night out with her friends and that was enough to clean out most of her remaining unhappiness. Rachel felt more refreshed than ever. It was as if she allowed her past confidence to be reignited with the downpour, finally letting loose of some of those memories which still haunted her nights. The walk in through the pouring rain was exactly what she needed and the cherry on top of the sundae was the party. A night to finally relax and let loose, but Rachel still had one more item to deal with before it could fully begin.

Tonight was something Rachel had been looking forward to all week, a night with the girls, but her footsteps hesitated momentarily as she shakily reached out to grab the doorknob. Rachel knew the discussion that awaited her on the other side of the threshold. The lingering darkness or doubt, which seemed so insignificant before, grew within her belly, burning through her like wildfire. It tore through her knees like a red hot iron blade, causing the bounce in her step to drag. That doubt was Finn Hudson.

Her hand dropped to her side as she reconsidered entering. If she turned around now, she could easily borrow an outfit from Quinn, but after taking a calming breath, hoping the fire would subside slightly, Rachel allowed her mind to snap back to what was important. She forced all her attention onto the waiting conversation, pushing every other thought away. It was such a crucial moment and Rachel needed all the concentration she had. She had asked Finn to wait for her after work so she can discuss the audition with him and since the audition was tomorrow, Rachel was left with very little time to convince Finn that acting was not a complete waste.

_It's now or never_ she thought as turned the handle and felt the waves of lava wash over her.

"Hey Finn," she called out, but received no answer. "Finn," her voice echoed again through the empty war zone which silently crackled with burning embers. She shrugged off her wet coat, hanging it on the hook before unzipping her boots, "where are you?"

"Rachel," A muffled reply drifted down the hallway, blending with the falling ash of her imagination, and she let out a sigh of relief. The idea of Finn skipping out on this conversation scared her, mostly because she believed it would happen. Whenever she had something important to discuss with him, Finn always seemed to forget, or was too busy to hear what Rachel had to say; she had expected today to be no different.

"Where are you?" She heard the clattering of trays and film canisters as she traced the noise down the hallway to the darkroom, avoiding the scars from past arguments that still burnt the hardwood.

"I'm developing." She tapped her nails lightly on the heavy black door, feeling the heat radiate from the other side, and another clang came thundering through the silence.

"Can I come in?" She asked hesitantly, "I really need to—"

"No!" He yelled before she could finish, and she felt the smoke starting to fill her lungs, silencing her. "No, the light will ruin the negatives." His voice was breathless, almost as if he was panting when he spoke. Rachel rarely heard Finn so out of breath. It only became that breathy when he was working out or extremely busy, and his manner caught her off guard.

"Alright, I don't want to ruin your work," Her brows furrowed while her mind helplessly tried to decipher what her next move should be. "I just really need to talk to you. It's important so please hurry." She waited patiently for a moment, hoping he would appear from behind the door, before giving up and heading towards the bedroom to pick out her clothes.

Rachel was debating between her green silk V-neck dress and her red empire waist sweater dress when she heard Finn come out of the darkroom, muttering under his breath. She glanced towards the doorway, hoping he would emerge, but when she heard the front door being closed Rachel's stomach instantly began to twist.

"Hey," he said quietly, a few moments later.

"Was there someone at the door?" The question cut through the air and a confused look smothered Finn's smouldering features for a fleeting moment.

"I thought I heard someone knock," His answer came without hesitation and Rachel accepted it with a nod, keeping her eyes trained on her two outfits. An awkward silence filled the surrounding air, thickening it with black clouds of ash, suffocating any thought before someone could voice it. It took everything Rachel had to speak again and even then she was just dancing around the edge of the fire.

"Did you get a lot of work done?"

"Yup," She watched as Finn stuffed his hands in his jean pockets; his lack of interest evident. Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips before she stepped closer to him. With a small smile slid, she stood up on her toes to press a kiss onto his cheek, but as her lips inched closer to his skin, Finn turned his head. He gripped her shoulders, successfully steadying her body away from him and Rachel felt her flesh sear under his fingers. It was as if his anger and apathy was channelled into his hands, burning her with even the lightest touch. "You wanted to ask me something." He asked as he moved himself further away.

"Right," Rachel was sure Finn would never cause her any physically pain, but his actions sent a powerful emotional hurt right through her. Her mind recovered quickly, automatically defending him and his actions. She blamed her wet clothes and dripping brown hair as the reason he pushed her away again. "I just I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Well, talk." His voice remained stoic as he stood before her, his eyes ignoring the turmoil that turned within her brown orbs.

"Can we sit down first?" She gestured towards the bed, but Finn remained still.

"What is it Rachel," With his hand in her grasp, Rachel gently guided him through the bedroom, "I don't have much time. I've got to hang the photos which are still in the water being rinsed from the fix and—"

"You remember Rylie right?" She cut him off, jumping right into the topic.

"That bratty girl from your college?" At this, Rachel rolled her eyes. She and Rylie spoke almost every day and Finn wanted nothing to do with Rachel's best friend. The relationship between Rylie and Finn was extremely tense. Anytime Finn opened his mouth to speak, Rylie rolled her eyes, and argued his point of view until she was blue in the face. Rylie always successfully proved him wrong, which annoyed Finn to no end. Rylie's dislike for Finn in general was just as evident as Finn's hatred for Rylie's abrasive attitude.

It was as if their negative opinions on one another were mirrored. Rylie found Finn moronic and unfitting of Rachel's affections while Finn had once referred to Rachel's best friend as 'a devil bitch with no control of her mouth'. Needless to say, the two did not get along, at all. "I thought you guys weren't close anymore?"

"No, we are." She hoped her cheery response would help lighten his sour mood. "We see each other quite frequently actually. You were there last time we went to dinner remember?"

"What about her?" Obviously, Rachel failed.

"Well," A soft sigh left her lips, giving her a moment to choose her next words wisely. "She is working with Arthur Hammel."

"Who?" Finn just stared at her with a dumbfounded disinterest.

"This very talented director, he did a few shows on Broadway actually—"

"That's great for her, but I don't see why we need to talk about this Arthur _Hamwell_." His voice rose slightly, overpowering Rachel's and she began to fidget with the hem of her shirt. She could see the fire raging within his eyes, growing with each passing second of silence, and slowly taking over his reason.

"Hammel." The correction was hushed but enough for Finn to narrow his gaze, "Finn, please just listen to me until the end ok?" Her words trailed off slightly as she kept her eyes cast downwards, avoiding his smouldering stare.

"Is this about acting again?" Rachel watched as Finn's fingers clenched into a fist, gripping the bed sheet slightly, and she attempted to gulp down her nerves.

"Finn, please promise me a chance to speak." The tone that left her lips even surprised her. It took on a sudden firm demand, and her face pulled into a mask of a powerful woman; the one she longed to be again. She watched stoically as the bed sheet twisted within his grasp.

"Fine," He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Arthur Hammel is working on an off-Broadway revival of _Moulin Rouge!_" She began slowly, and ran a hand through her locks. "They're in desperate need of a female lead for, one which has never seen the stage before. He wants a fresh talent." She paused for a moment, allowing the information to set in, but with each passing second, the current, broken version of herself, began to sweep through the facade. Still, she pressed on. "Remember the movie? We went to see it together when they played it in the old Lima theatre."

"Yeah, I remember it, the one where Nicole Kidman is a slut right?" His question fell from his lips peacefully, but the words physically hurt Rachel causing her to flinch slightly as another wave of fire singed her skin. She knew she lost him, but still she continued.

"U-uh, right," she stammered. "Anyway, Rylie suggested to Arthur that I play the role of Satine."

"No."

"You promised. Please let me finish." Her whisper was broken, and the trembling breath she took in was full of the thick fog which always seemed to silence her.

"What is there to finish, you are not going to audition." His voice boomed off the walls, and the ash 'tornado-ed' around them.

"Just let me finish, please. It's just an audition, he asked for me to come in tomorrow, my day off. I won't be missing work for it, and you will be out with Puck for that Yankees game anyway." Rachel begged, but Finn just scoffed.

"He asked _you_ to come?" The sarcasm dripped off his tongue, and another slash ripped into her. "I doubt that since you haven't acted in two years." And another. "You really think someone who has never been in a production will be cast as lead?" And another.

"Finn, Rylie recommended me to him," She hesitantly placed a hand on his forearm, and he shot her a look filled with a silent burning anger. "He is desperate for a leading lady. I could finally be a leading lady. I really want this Finn, please."

"You are not playing the part of a whore Rachel." He sizzled, and stood abruptly but her hand remained on his arm, halting his movements.

"I played that part before. I played it in Tisch, and you. You came." Rachel struggled to keep her tears from falling as Finn yanked his arm away from her grasp. "You saw it, and you said I was beautiful, meant for the role. You said I was amazing. Don't you remember any of that?"

"What I remember was that college guy being all over _my_ girlfriend. God damn it, Rachel!" Finn hollered, his words bouncing off the walls of the bedroom, echoing and smothering Rachel. "Another man kissing, and practically fucking you on stage in front of a giant audience, that's what I remember. Plus you have the bar." Letting out a frustrated sigh, Finn glanced at his girlfriend and changed his tone to the gentle one that soothed the sting. "Your boss won't give you that much time off. We need the money Rachel and I need this job at the Post." Rachel immediately remembered the Post and felt the wave guilt wash over her, "This play will cost it for me 'cause I will need to get another job to support your dream, _sweetheart_."

"Finn this is my dream." She whispered, a stray tear rolling down her cheek.

"I supported you while you were trying to go after your dreams, sweetie." His words were condescending and demeaning, making her wonder why he walked back to wipe the tear away from her face, "After a year, you got nowhere remember? I picked up the pieces of your stardom when they rejected you time after time. This isn't gonna be any different."

His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she felt the lingering heat through her clothes. She sniffled, giving him a small nod of understanding; his dreams won out again. "You're just gonna get hurt again. I don't want that. I don't like seeing you like this Rach, but you are risking my dreams now too." Rachel was full on sobbing now, and Finn frowned, as she shook her head. His grip on her shoulder tightening before he made his way out of the bedroom. "I can't talk about this anymore Rachel. I have to go to work; just like you will have to if we want to live in this place."

Rachel could not believe what she was hearing. His arguments would have sounded fair to anyone, except her. Rachel's father purchased her and Finn that apartment during her college years. The only money that had to be put in was towards utilities, and working twice a week at O'Leary's was more than enough of an income to afford the bill along with food.

"Finn," she followed him into the dark room, her voice timid and small but enough to make him stop before the heavy black door. "Why should I have to give up on my dreams for yours to succeed? Why can't we both make it?"

"Rachel, just stop," The anger was back in full force as he whipped around to face her. "This," he gestured to photos around them, "What I am doing is called work. My photographs are bringing money into the house." With each word he said, he stepped closer to her, until she was backed up against the wall. The drywall felt ice cold against her bare forearms, but Finn was seething with anger, his rage bubbling out his mouth and swallowing her whole within the inferno. "Once the post takes me full time, we will be set and you can stay home all you want. Acting is just not practical and we both need to work or we won't have money to feed ourselves. Don't you get that?"

"Please listen." She tried again, hoping to get somewhere with him this time.

"I'm done listening" He snapped, and Rachel flinched when his fist hit the wall behind her, "I don't want my girl friend dancing around stage playing the part of a whore. You've done it once in your life, isn't that enough?"

"This could be my big break. This play already has the potential to go to Broadway and—"

"Enough!" A soft gasp escaped Rachel's lips as Finn shouted louder than she had ever heard before. She knew better than speak any further, "I have to get to the game. Tipoff is in 30 minutes." With that he turned around, hung the wet pictures to dry and left the room, leaving Rachel alone to gaze at the sports stars she loathed. They not only had their dreams, but they held hers captive too.

* * *

Jesse was a complete wreck by the end of rehearsal on Wednesday. Tomorrow he was going to see her. The only woman he ever loved. The woman he compared every other one too. Rachel freaking Berry was coming to audition, to be a part of _his_ play. The more he thought about her potential part in the play, the more amazed he became. She was going to act with him, share the stage with him, sing to him, and kiss him. _Rachel Berry _was going to kiss _him _again.

He was so excited that he was terrified. Jesse prayed that this was not some hallucination his mind has conjured up in his delirium. He feared that his guilt was creating another world amongst his own; that his insomnia crossed the line to schizophrenia.

"Jesse, you've walked up to that signup sheet six times today." A smug voice sang softly behind him, and he smiled. "I'm sure you've memorized the time by now."

"I just need to make sure that this is real." Jesse felt like he was entering 'Stage Three' of his sleep cycle much earlier than scheduled. Although his delusions were never this real, he felt he was imagining everything. Fate was never his friend before, why would it suddenly change that pattern? He glanced at Rylie before taking in the name one more time.

He knew that Rachel did not sign herself up; the infamous gold star was lacking from its place at the end of her name. She had always said that metaphors were important, and that star was a metaphor. A metaphor for the bright shining star he had no doubtingly knew she became. He was shocked when he had found out she was in New York with him and not in the acting community. She went to college with Rylie, and yet he only found out yesterday morning.

Two mornings before the morning he would see her.

"I'm sure it's real, trust me." Rylie let a soft laugh escape as she spoke. Jesse just nodded, as he continued to stare the sheet. He always told Arthur that there was a better leading lady out there somewhere. Now the _best_ was coming. _Rachel Berry is coming_ he reminded himself.

"I'm not sure if I can trust you." He said finally taking his eyes off the white paper. "You know how horrible I was to her. Maybe this is some sick vengeful joke you're playing on me. You can be very malicious when you want to be." Although he winked at her, the insecurity still lingered within his voice. It was an undercurrent he was sure Rylie sensed.

"I may be a bitch when I get hurt, but you and I both know Rachel is not one to seek revenge, and she would never let me do that on her behalf."

"She is too good to seek that low." He nodded before dropping into a seat outside the auditorium with a sigh. Rylie eyed him as he ran a hand through his curls nervously while his foot tapped a steady rhythm against the hardwood.

"She's really eating you up inside isn't she?" She took the seat next to him, and patted his leg reassuringly.

"Graham. She was," He turned to meet her gaze, "No, she is everything to me." Rylie's eyes widened at his words. "I hurt her, lost her, and now I am going to see her. I think I'd rather it have been a surprise, because now that I know she's going to be here tomorrow, I can't stop freaking out. My stomach is turning and tying itself into all these knots when I think of all the different reactions she could have when she sees me." He let out a small burp, before continuing. "I think I actually might be getting an ulcer from the stress."

"You're such a drama queen, pizza boy. No wonder theatre is your calling." Rylie's laughter filled the surrounding air as she pointed to small table in the lobby which was littered with pizza boxes for the cast, and Jesse shoved her playfully.

"And your harsh bluntness is what makes you a writer."

"Oh stop, flattery will get you everywhere." She forced a modest tone, and Jesse's anxiety was settled slightly. He still could not help but think that Rylie was trying to play a sort of revenge, but he just had to take her word. He was amazed that his friendship with the woman had not changed at the mention of the teenage actions he regretted the most.

"Why are you in such a good mood today?" Jesse's voice spoke out his inner musings before his brain could filter it. "I would think that knowing my history with your friend would immediately turn you off from being remotely nice to me."

"First, I have and will never be nice to you. You annoy me far too much for me to have an ounce of kindness in my body set towards you." Rylie said with a wink, and Jesse let out a laugh when he saw the wicked smile plastered on Rylie's face.

"Good to know."

"Second, as much as I _should_ hate you for what you did to her. I think you are genuinely guilty about it. I can see it actually eats you up, and I have this feeling that these black marks," she ran her thumb across the dark circles under his eyes gently, "Are proof of that guilt. Plus, I think that you actually loved her, still do. So, I feel bad for you." Her eyes softened with a foreign kindness as she spoke.

"Don't pity me Rylie, that's the last thing I need." His pride got the better of him as always. He did not want someone to look down on him for messing up the only thing in his life that gave him joy, especially someone whom he respected.

"Pity is the first thing you need, but do not mistake my compassion for pity." Rylie's voice was filled with a strong determination, and Jesse was taken back. She was the last person he would ever expect to believe pity, in any form, was a needed emotion. Rylie was strong and independent, refusing any form of mercy to come her way.

If she was a warrior, she would be the one who would die gracefully in battle, refusing to beg for life or death. She would be the one to fight until her very last breath. So, why would she willingly give the emotion to him of all people? It seemed that she read his thoughts, as his face scrunched in confusion, "You need someone to _sympathize_ with you. You may be a devil, but even he needs sympathy."

"Rewording a Stones' song to show support? I'm kind of impressed actually." Jesse smirked, and Rylie mimicked the action. "Jagger would be proud."

"You think?" She patted his knee again before getting up. "See you tomorrow Jesse, I know you'll be here." The parting words she called over her shoulder echoed through the empty lobby as she disappeared into the New York street.

A moment later Jesse got up, gathering his script, jacket and umbrella, before exiting the theatre and merging with the street traffic. Despite the water splattering on the pavement and the nervous gut wrenching feeling that further engulfed his stomach, Jesse left the theatre with a wide smile gracing his features as he remembered Rylie's parting words.

_I wouldn't miss it for the world._

* * *

Despite the argument Rachel and Finn had only an hour before Rachel managed to arrive at Quinn's apartment with a large smile placed firmly on her lips. This night was something she needed, and not even Finn's crude words could make this night any less special. The two women got dressed as fast as humanly possible and were out the door to meet their friends at the jazz bar within the hour of Rachel's arrival. The cab ride there was torturously long. They spent their time trying to contain their giggles and muffle their disgust at the flirtatious driver praying the traffic would let up.

When they arrived at the bar, Santana was already there, her arm draped around Britney's shoulders while the diamonds on their matching engagement rings sparkled in the soft candle light. Quinn and Rachel were almost instantly at the table, congratulating the couple and ordering their drinks. The women already had two drinks and two shots when the rest of the invited guests arrived. Mercedes and Tina entered before a fashionably late Kurt, and the evening had officially started.

They danced and drank far more than they should have, laughing and sharing stories that the others may have missed. Kurt and Quinn were at the bar ordering another drink, while Tina and Mercedes were still on the dance floor. The two girls had not let the dance floor all night, and Rachel could not help but smile as she looked out from her seat. Her two friends were having the time of their lives with two boys they had only just met. She twirled the olive in her glass, watching as it released an air bubble into the martini she was drinking and she could not help but long for the same kind of excitement. Glancing over at Santana and Brittney as they all over each other on the other end of the table Rachel could not stop the little sting of jealousy.

Rachel loved spending time with her friends, but as she watched all her friends' happiness within their own lives, all she could think about was her conversation with Finn. _Why is he so against me pursuing my dreams? _She thought. It was a concept she was still unable to grasp. Santana and Brittney were always so supportive of each other, just like Quinn and Noah. Why Rachel was denied that right was a complete mystery. When Brittney wanted to be a choreographer Santana was the first to push her into job interviews, and when Santana wanted to go to Yale Law, Brittney took over the household finances for them both. Finn told her she was not allowed to audition for her dreams only hours before the engagement party, effectively ruining her good time.

Most her friends had some sort of support from their significant other. Kurt had Blaine pushing him to design clothes, and Quinn had Noah pushing her to become a reporter. Mercedes and Tina had an independence that once embodied their beings. They were able to push themselves, not caring about other people's doubts. It was an independence that once described Rachel as well, something she regretted letting go of. Maybe it was the immense amount of alcohol she ingested, but Rachel was starting to get upset.

"Rachel, I know you are pissed because the spotlight isn't on you but could you try and be happy for us?" Santana spoke up snapping her out of her musings. "I'm getting married and you are ruining it diva." The instant the words left Santana's mouth, Rachel regretted the thoughts that crossed her mind. It was a happy day, a day of celebration, and Santana was right, she was ruining it. Not just for herself, but for everyone.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Britney asks softly as Kurt and Quinn sat down at the table. "You aren't... well, you." Kurt's eyes widened, obviously surprised by Brittney's sudden perception.

"I'm fine," Rachel tried to brush the conversation off. "I'm so sorry, I was just thinking of a conversation I had with Finn."

"Normally," Santana's tone softened as a small smirk crossed her lips, "Conversations with your significant other should make you blush at the thought, what happened?" Quinn nodded in agreement, and the four friends urged Rachel to unload.

"Rylie," Rachel gulped down a breath along with a sip of her drink, "She got me an audition at the Cannon Theatre. She signed me up to audition for the female lead of Moulin rouge! I was actually looking forward to it," She started and all her friends' faces lit up with huge smiles.

"Rachel, that's great news," Santana clapped loudly and whipped her head around the bar, "We should have ten more drinks for that!" The music was loud, but Santana's yells signalled a waiter and another round of cocktails were instantly placed before them.

"Santana that's not necessary, I said no." Rachel spoke quickly, and Kurt lowered the cup he was holding up in toast before his jaw literally dropped. It was as if a silence took over the entire bar. Everyone at the table just sat stunned, and it was making Rachel extremely uncomfortable. "I-I am not going tomorrow. I just can't." She sputtered out, and Quinn's jaw joined Kurt's.

"What!" Kurt screeched, placing a hand dramatically over his mouth in shock. "Why on earth would you ever say no to an audition? Especially one of this magnitude!" Rachel shrugged, unsure of what to say, which was not sufficient for her friends.

"I am not comfortable playing the role of a harlot on stage." Her voice was cool, but hardly convincing, lacking the acting technique she had mastered. "I think it doesn't send a good message to the other plays I want to audition for."

"What the hell are you talking about Rachel? You can always say no to other offers after this play?" Santana asked, the horror that Kurt experienced slowly passing on to her. She was so horrified that a curse escaped her lips before downing another shot.

"You've played that part before too," Quinn added, "I think you should go, it's a great opportunity, and Rylie went to the trouble of talking to the director for you." Rachel immediately felt a bang of guilt. "Not going would look bad on her too, not just you."

"Finn and I already discussed it; we agreed it isn't a good time." Brittney literally choked a little on her drink as Rachel spoke. Britney, like Rylie, never liked the way that Finn treated Rachel; Britney was just not as vocal about it. "This play would give me no time for work and I need to work. Can we just not talk about this? It's supposed to be a happy time."

"Rachel—" They all said in unison.

"No, please just drop it. Santana have you and Brit decided on a date?"

The topic was officially dropped after Rachel asked Santana about herself, just as expected, but Quinn was still worried about what Rachel had said. The remainder of the night was spent with everyone, except Quinn, ingesting more cocktails and wine. Rachel was officially inebriated by the end of the night, but Quinn never left her friend's side even as they sat at the table alone watching the rest of their friends dance. It was nearing three in the morning when Rachel's face was blanketed with distress; it was obvious that she had started to think about Finn and the audition once more.

It was all so unfair to Quinn. And she was sure it was unfair for Rachel too. Why was she not allowed to audition? That was the only thing both women could think of. What was so wrong with the idea of Rachel on stage? It was at that question when Quinn noticed the tears in Rachel's eyes.

"Rachel, can we talk about the audition?" Quinn asked gently as she sat next to her, but Rachel could not speak. Her tears were unable to be contained any longer. A single soft sob escaped her lips, and the rest of Rachel's body crumbled into Quinn's side. "Aw, sweetie, I know you want to go tomorrow. I can see it, so why don't you?"

"Finn is r-right," She cried out against her shoulder and Quinn immediately dragged her towards the washroom. "I-I shouldn't be p-playing a wh-whore. And this p-part will interfere with my j-job at O'Leary's. My big b-break could interfere with our life. We would be poor!" She was full on bawling when Quinn pushed through the washroom door with Rachel in tow.

"You were so great at Tisch, remember?" Quinn tried to reassure Rachel as she wiped the tears from her face. "I still have the DVD that your dad's made me of that performance. It's better that the movie y'know?"

"He just left," she choked out, her words barely audible any more. Her answer confused Quinn. She still did not understand what had really happened between Finn and Rachel. The music from outside the washroom drowned out most of Rachel's admission, and Quinn was worried about this controlling side of Finn that had shown up more and more recently.

"Finn?" Rachel was not sure how to answer that. She was not sure who she was thinking about anymore.

"He walked out after everything." Rachel's memories began to blur into one another the more she tried to make sense of it. Jesse's face danced in her mind as she remembered the times they had acted plays out in his garage before mixing with Finn's rage at the male lead from Tisch being all over her. She felt Jesse's touch washing over her face, as the damp cloth wiped her tears while the searing pain of Finn's angry grasp still burned her arms. The memories caused her stomach to turn. "He just l-left."

_Conversations with a significant other should make you blush at the thought. _Rachel pictured being intimate with Finn as Santana's words flashed through her mind. The memory of being pushed away by him at the doorway just a few hours earlier sent another pang of emotion to her stomach. Rachel felt Quinn's hand rub reassuring circles along her back as she embraced him but as she closed her eyes, Rachel pictured Jesse's hands roaming her body.

His fingers burning and imprinting onto her skin with a passion than was never painful; it still ignited her body by thought. The feel of his kiss against her lips awakened her senses. She felt Finn stoic emotions slapping against her cheek, as he denied her a kiss, and his words breaking her dreams against her forehead. She felt her tears drip of her chin as she cried harder. _I loved you. _Both of their voices drifted into her mind, blending together before she felt the sharp shells cut her forehead, and the yolk began to pour down her face. Her stomach did one final flip which caused her head to spin, and she ran for the toilet.

Quinn ran to her side, grasping Rachel's hair in one hand while rubbing circles on her back with the other. She sat silently with Rachel until her stomach was empty and her tears dried onto her cheeks.

"Let's get you home ok?" Quinn whispered. She handed her some paper towel and a bottle of water from her purse.

"No, please no." A choked out sob rasped out as Rachel's head fell back against the wall of the bathroom stall.

"You want to stay at my house Rach?" Rachel just nodded in response before Quinn helped her up and carried her out the bar and into a cab. She texted Santana an apology and typed out a warning to Noah when they slipped into the cab. As she wrapped her jacket around Rachel, who had fallen asleep, and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, a sudden determination came over her. Rachel was going to go to that audition tomorrow, and Quinn was going to make sure of it.

Reaching into Rachel's purse, she grabbed her friend's phone, and scrolled down the contacts. Quinn copied the number she was looking for into her own phone and called. It took a few rings before the line connected and a confused voice came through the other end.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Quinn." Quinn kept her voice low in case Rachel awoke.

"Quinn? Why are you calling at, three thirty in the morning?"

"When is Rachel's audition tomorrow?" Quinn asked getting right to the point.

"One Thirty." The voice replied and a sigh came through the line, "What happened?"

"Finn and her argued about it, I think. It was very confusing. She slurred most of it." Her explanation was obviously insufficient but was all that Quinn could offer. Thankfully it was enough.

"She isn't coming?" The disappointment cut through the phone line and further fuelled Quinn's determination.

"She said she wasn't going to, but I'll get her there." Quinn nodded triumphantly before ending the call. Glancing down at her best friend, who was currently nuzzled into her lap, Quinn sighed and she ran a hand through her hair. Rachel was going to be a star and that was something almost everyone around her was sure of, Quinn just needed to give Rachel a little push in the right direction first.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:**

I DO NOT OWN GLEE OR THE CHARACTERS FROM GLEE, IF I DID THE SEASON TWO FINALE WOULD NOT HAVE ENDED THE WAY IT DID.

**Author's note/rant:**

I strongly believe that Finn literally sets back the women's rights movement by 100 years. the way he treats Rachel and places this moronic claim over her is absolutely disgusting, and he should just stop toying with her emotions. He constantly jumps back from Quinn, to her, to his inter rockstar, to her, and then back to quinn, only to go back to her again. He may have the mentality of a 5 year old boy, but Rachel is definitely not a toy, so he has no right in casting her a side like a used teddy bear only to fight over ownership when another person is interested. It is absolutely disgusting, and he represents everything i hate.

I know it isn't the fault of the actor, or even the character, it is all Ryan Murphy and the writers, who should seriously revamp their plot lines instead of reusing past season material. YOU ARE ONLY ON THE SECOND SEASON WHY THE HELL DO YOU NEED TO REUSE USELESS PLOTLINES FROM SEASON ONE? they could have at least brought up Rachel and her mom, or Quinn and Puck's baby Beth. That story line just left when new love interests came in; it was story line that is slightly unresolved, and needing more clarification since teen pregnancy is not something someone could get over as quickly as the show protrayed.

alright, enough of my rant, I am just honestly upset about this. I really can't believe they would end another season with a Finn/Rachel reunion. It is so stupid to because it makes Rachel look desperate and pathetic, and she is neither. She is a star.

**All your reviews have been so amazing, and nice. I want to thank you all because they really helps me write. This chapter means a lot to me, so i would really like as much feedback as you can give**. **Feel free to give me plot line ideas, i would love to see what you guys think, and hopefully try to incorperate your input. Hope you guys liked it!**

**as for upcoming chapter spoilers, all i can say is the next chapter is really great too, and it will involve a song or two along with a lot of emotion. ;)  
**


	6. Chapter 5: Spectacular, Spectacular

**Author's Note:**

I know i said i would be on hiatus. I still am on 'hiatus'. I am just taking a while to update since i have so much to do and my inspiration is just all over the place. I had this written before, and finally finished editing it. I hope you guys like it. I felt terrible leaving this without at least SOME jesse and rachel, SOOOOOOOOOO i made this chapter EXTREMELY long and it has many Point of views which are split up. Hope you enjoy it!

**DISCLAIMER:**

I do not own glee. I wish i did, so i could fix season 2. the only thing i have control over is Rylie Graham, Arthur Hammel, and the plot.

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Spectacular, Spectacular**

* * *

Rachel's eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the morning light which streamed through the oddly familiar bay window. She had spent many nights in this bedroom before, always getting a better night sleep than in her own lumpy bed. The dim morning light shown through the glass, filtering through the thick red winter curtains and circling around the large room. A groan escaped Rachel's lips as recognition fell upon her like a ton of bricks; she had slept at the Puckerman's last night.

Her memory was hazy, only bits and pieces of the night's events coming through the inebriated cloud that fogged her mind. Amongst the mist, she could make out the setting of the classy jazz club Santana had booked. She could vaguely remember the way the soft light from the candle at their booth reflected off her martini glass, and her friends sitting around the table drinking alcohol, a lot of alcohol. Rachel's stomach flipped at the thought of how much alcohol was actually consumed, which only meant that she had vomited at one point of the evening.

Pressing her fingers to her temples, Rachel attempted to will the throbbing hangover headache away while small snippets of innocent conversations started to play in her thoughts. It was as if there was a small tape recorder in her mind, which accidentally fell into a bucket of water, and still barely worked; only a few incoherent broken words were played back in between the short circuiting and static. It was nauseating. Each sentence she remembered was like a small electrical shock to her mind, jolting talks about the date of Santana and Britney's wedding, how the light literally sparkled off their matching diamond engagement rings and how the bartender serving them looked like a young Bradley Cooper back to live. _'Expect his ass, too flat of an ass if you ask me.' _Kurt Hummel's voice sung through the cloud, triggering an unexpected reaction: complete reminiscence.

Suddenly discussions her psyche was obviously trying to suppress came pouring down from stormy skies, clearing the miasma as the rain pelted her thoughts. Rolling over and clamping her eyes shut, she hoped for the multitude of memories to stop and sleep to regain control. _'Conversations with a significant other should make you blush at the thought__,' _Santana's words of wisdom whipped through like hurricane winds, 'tornado-ing' her worn down mentality, and only leaving the ragged remains of a cyclone storm. Sleep really was out of her reach, just like always.

"Crap," she whispered, the most important details of the previous evening flooding all conscious thought. She was swimming through the waves of awareness, key memories springing out of the water like flying fish trying to climb rapids and waterfalls. Each hurdle played in her head; the audition; her declination; their reactions; the vomit. "Oh god," she was ready to dig a hole to hide in, before a gentle humming floated into the guest room, silencing her thoughts completely.

The tune triggered a memory that she had nearly forgotten. It was approximately four years ago, when Quinn first arrived to New York…

_It was an unusually warm December that year. The snow still covered the ground and the ice was yet to melt, but the air lacked a certain icy chill to it, making the night much more bearable. It was the only reason why Rachel had agreed to go to Rockefeller Center with Quinn._

"_Hurry Rach," Quinn huffed out a small tuff of white wisp as she ran towards the rink. They waited until night was upon them, killing off time during the day at Rachel's favorite vegan café and two Broadway shows, to ensure space to move around._

"_I'm running as fast as I can," Rachel called out to Quinn who was already nearing the rink, which was lit up with what seemed like a million little stars. Even from her distance away, Rachel could hear the gasp that escaped Quinn's lips. _

_The one activity Quinn had been looking forward to since she had arrived in New York was skating at Rockefeller Center. From the sounds of it, the sight was too good to be true. There were only a handful of skaters left circling around on the ice, allowing the lights from the Christmas tree to reflect fully off the frozen pond, and when Rachel reached Quinn, slightly out of breath, she immediately smiled._

_Quinn raced to tie up her skates, but Rachel's motions lingered as she continued to gaze. The sight, however breathtaking, stung to look at; she had far too many bad memories skating. She had no idea she was staring until Quinn pointed it out. Even then, it took a small nudge on the shoulder for Rachel to start to lacing up her skates, but her brown eyes were still fixated on the ice, almost burning an invisible hole into it._

"_Rachel, are you just going to sit there staring into space?" Quinn pressed again, waiting impatiently for Rachel to finish._

"_Sorry, I just never thought I would go skating again." She admitted, _

"_Sorry, I just never thought I would go skating again." Rachel admitted softly, her brown eyes almost burning an invisible hole into the ice rink as she gazed out in front of her. The soft lights from the decorated Christmas tree twinkled off of the ice, making it sparkle. It looked so magical, but Rachel was aware of the deception behind 'magic'. _

_Rachel's eyes followed as Quinn stepped out onto the ice, gliding gracefully in-between the other skaters making their way off, and she hurried to tie her skates tighter. A smile dazzled Quinn's face as she spun around, taking in the surrounding beauty, and Rachel wanted so bad to be that care free again. She wanted to enjoy the moment as much as Quinn was, but as Rachel stepped towards the door, she went rigid. She could not, for the life of her, bring herself to step onto the frozen water._

"_Rach, you ok?" she called out as she skated back towards her, leaning against the boards. Her white hat and gloves matched her white vest and white figure skates. The light blue sweater and jeans she wore made her eyes dazzle, bringing a power to the bright blue orbs. A power that could light an entire city, but as she gazed at Rachel, Quinn's eyes only reflected concern. _

"_I can't," Rachel's voice was hardly louder than a whisper. _

"_Hey, what's up Rachel? What's going on?" Quinn placed her hand on Rachel's arm, urging her to speak._

"_I can't, I-I can't." She repeated over and over again, stray tears rolling down her olive colored cheeks, as she shook her head. Rachel tried to clear the fear from her mind, the fear of hurt that came when she remembered the golden hair and strong arms twirling her across the frozen pond in Ohio. She almost felt the heat of his chest against her cheeks, but this time, instead of bringing the comfort which it used to, it only brought a numbing pain to her heart. _

_She nearly ran down the street with ice skates strapped to her feet but a soft humming suddenly filled the air, and warm arms wrapped around her in an embrace that was foreign yet welcomed. It was a tune that Rachel remembered from Glee. The song that she and Quinn both admitted to loving during a class discussion, and ended up singing together in a duet at sectionals their junior year. The lyrics began to float in her mind, blending with the tune that danced around Rachel as Quinn held her in an embrace._

'_When I find myself in times of trouble,  
Mother Mary comes to me.  
Speaking words of wisdom,  
Let it be._

_And in my hour of darkness,  
She is standing right in front of me.  
Speaking words of wisdom,  
Let it be.'_

_The two women stood there for a few moments, letting the Beatles' send the consoling needed, before Rachel finally spoke again._

"_Thanks." Her voice was broken, and beaten, as if she went through war and returned. In her mind, that's what it felt like, the emotional war of heartbreak._

"_Better?" Quinn slowly pulled back from the hug._

"_Yeah, I just have some bad skating memories." _

"_Did you fall or something?" Quinn's question was innocent, but for some reason it seemed to pour salt on the wound. It brought a stinging pain in the back of Rachel's eyelids, one that could not be controlled much longer._

"_Kind of, not a physical fall, but emotionally I fell, I guess." Rachel started to ramble, wiping away the stray tears which escaped their confines, and Quinn just raised a questioning eyebrow at her. _

"_You haven't changed that much Rach," Soft laughter danced across the air, melting into the ambiance, lightening the mood a little, and making Rachel feel safe again. "Still as dramatic as ever."_

"_Jesse and I went skating during the winter." She blurted, unable to stop the admission. "He had a skating rink in the back of his uncle's house." Quinn was stunned into silence. The last person she expected for Rachel to mention was Jesse, and Rachel could see the surprise in her features. "Well not a rink, but a frozen pond. It was our thing, and I have never skated with anyone other than him since. Even Finn and I haven't skated together. It still hurts to look at the ice." Rachel said in a rush, before clasping a hand over her mouth. She could not believe that she had said all that, especially to someone that she only became close with recently. "Oh my god, please don't tell Finn I spoke about Jesse. He will be furious if he thinks I still have feelings for Jesse."_

"_Hey, I am not going to tell him. Don't worry. Secrets safe with me," Quinn and Rachel fell into an awkward silence. It was as if there was a million words being said to a mute, but when Quinn cleared her throat, her soft voice began, unsure and advising. "I still think you should skate though, get over the hurt y'know?" Rachel nodded, giving thought to her friend's words each night before finally returning to Rockefeller Center again. _

_Rachel did not skate the second time, nor the third time, but over the next few weeks, she and Quinn came back twice a night. Each visit Quinn tried to get Rachel on the ice, and when she had succeeded, Rachel felt empowered. She glided out the meet Quinn in the middle of the ice, singing 'Let it Be' as loud as her lungs would allow, but with each glide Rachel took, the lingering memory of the curly hair boy stung her heart. _

* * *

Rachel dragged herself out of bed, glancing around the room one more time as she slipped a pair of slippers on her feet. She grabbed the robe Quinn left for her, and pulled it on before making her way down the hallway, following the familiar hum. The soft light from the living room lamp guided Rachel's way through the large Brooklyn home, and to Quinn who sat comfortably on the couch with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"What are you doing up?" She asked glancing up from her book briefly, "With all the martinis you drank, I would assume you would still be sleeping until tomorrow."

"Couldn't sleep with all that light," Rachel motioned to the window, before stepping into her friend's kitchen.

"In the pot." Quinn answered the unspoken question, and a few moments later Rachel joined her friend on the couch, her own coffee in hand. Rachel hissed slightly as she took a sip, allowing the heat to fill her chest, warming her from the inside out.

"Where's Noah?" She asked, but Quinn continued to read, savoring another page before, closing her book and gingerly placing it on the side table.

"He always leaves at eight and seeing as it's ten, he has been gone for a few hours," Rachel nodded, finally understanding why so much of the sun decided to wake her. "Seriously Rach, what're you up?"

"I told you I couldn't sleep, I think I'm hungry." A small rumbling noise came from Rachel's stomach, as she took another sip of her coffee. She remembered most of the night, but there were still some uneasy moments. Worries about how her behavior affected Santana and Britney caused Rachel to finally ask the looming question, "What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing too serious. Don't worry, Santana isn't mad or anything, she was actually really happy you could make it." Quinn eased her friend's concern, before standing and handing Rachel a small pile of clothes. "I washed your stuff, I had the time, but I was hoping you would be hungry, 'cause we are going out."

* * *

After much protest, Quinn finally managed to drag Rachel to a small café in the center of New York. It was surprisingly empty, simply decorated, and had a great selection of healthy choices for hangover meal. Rachel and Quinn both ate in silence. Rachel took in the décor and listening to the soon to be out of date pop music played from the small radio, while Quinn debated on how to initiate her plan.

"So," Quinn began, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. After speaking to Rylie last night, she had been devising a plan in her mind; a plan that had to go perfectly for Rachel Berry to attend that ever nearing audition. The theatre was ten minutes away, and with the audition an hour away, they had to start moving fast.

"So?" Rachel mimicked, taking another sip of her tea, waiting for the truth.

"The cannon theatre is down the block." Quinn mumbled into her tea.

"I knew we came here for a reason." A fork clattered against the small dessert plate, emphasizing Rachel's frustration.

"Look, I'll cut right to it—" An attempt of explanation was interrupted by an obviously irritated Rachel. It was the reaction which Quinn was actually hoping for. An angry Rachel meant a greater chance at the real truth which was stopping the born actress away from the stage. An angry Rachel also meant Quinn had the opportunity to use forceful persuasion, a tactic she was excellent at.

"I think you already have Quinn, I can't go." The excuse was lame, and both of them knew it. A smile graced Quinn's lips for a brief moment before finally calling Rachel out.

"I don't care if you _think_ you 'can't'." Her tone was almost sinister, as if she had already won, and she truly had. Quinn had succeeded in getting Rachel to that audition; the faster Rachel accepted it, the sooner this conversation would be over. "Rachel you _have_ to do this, or else you will regret it for the rest of your life. A lead role a block away and you 'can't' go? I think that's just a load of bullshit."

"Quinn, you don't understand—"

"You're right, enlighten me."

"You are starting to sound like Rylie." Rachel scoffed, attempting to avoid the topic, agitation building within her belly. Not towards Quinn, but towards the truth which left her mouth, and why that same truth could not be seen by Finn.

"Rachel, I will start swearing like her too if you don't give me a good reason why I shouldn't drag you down the street and place you on the stage myself." The stern strength behind Quinn's voice sent a shiver down Rachel's spine, as if she was a child being scolded for eating a box of cookies before dinner. The calm ferocity forced the truth out of her. She gulped, before uttering the one name that would hold the cure for Quinn's confusion.

"Finn."

"What about Finn?" Quinn's rage was hidden behind a veil of disinterest. As if the man's existence within this issue was irrelevant. It was a mask of honesty that broke through the mental wall in Rachel's mind that surrounded the powerful Finn, liberating a freedom to the forefront. "Does he have a say on what you do from day to day?"

"Yes." It was the truth. Finn had a hold on Rachel's actions. Everything she did, she did with Finn in consideration. She could not lie about that, but the minute she answered, she felt ashamed. As if she would be punished for uttering the simple word that fell from her lips only a moment ago.

"Excuse me."

"I mean, no. I don't know." Rachel stumbled over her answer, looking for something to redeem Finn from the light she had just painted him in. "He was just so upset about me going to this show and he said it would hinder his job at the post, I can't do that to him."

"How on earth with a paying job hinder his job at the post?" It was a question that Rachel asked herself each day since the first time he asked her to quit pursuing acting.

"Well, I don't know." She honestly did not know the solution to that impossible riddle. After months and months of asking herself she could not come to a reasonable conclusion.

"A paying job that earns more than him?" Quinn furthered the inquiry, trying to guide Rachel in the right path. Hoping that maybe asking the hard questions would finally make Rachel try and ask them.

"He just doesn't want me playing such a promiscuous role, which I understand." Another excuse. '_Excuses are the nails in the house of failure.'_ It was a motto that rung in Quinn's mind, and if she heard another lame attempt at dismissal from Rachel, Quinn was going to literally slap her friend back into reason.

"How many times do I have to call bullshit?" Quinn's calm finally snapped. She was sick of Rachel dancing around the obvious.

"Quinn, you have to understand his position." That was the final straw. Rachel was going to see reason, not the reason created by a controlling jealous twit. She took a sip of her tea before dwelling into her own rant, interrupting Rachel's justification of Finn Hudson's manipulation.

"No, I don't have to understand him, because he has to understand your passion and accept and support it. Why can you support him and him not you, answer me that. Can you?" Rachel remained silence, eyes wide and unsure as Quinn continued. "You work hard every day at the O'Leary's, and make more as a waitress than he does at the post.'

'You know Will won't make you work so hard if you are in a show, and you know this show pays well. You will probably make more in this show alone than working at both the bar and on stage. So, enough with the excuses get your ass to that theatre, and audition the shit off that stage, you got me?"

Rachel nodded eagerly, an anger bubbling within her belly, fueling the fire that would drive her to success. A smile was firmly on her face as they paid the bill and headed out the door towards the cannon theatre.

* * *

Rylie was starting to get nervous as she paced up and down the lobby. _Maybe she isn't coming? What if Quinn failed? _She thought before stopping in the middle of the lobby, eyes wide with fear. Oh _God, what if Jesse kills himself over this!_ She nearly screamed at the notion of Jesse going further into his obvious depression. He may not have come out and said it, but Rylie could see the affects of long waking hours, and a deep rooted melancholia that could only come from heartache.

"I will kill Finn for this." She hissed through her teeth, glancing down the hallway towards the dressing rooms. She had told Jesse to wait there until after Rachel begun performing. Rylie wanted to ensure that Rachel performed, and not run at the sight of the curly haired love of her life. She was about to make her way down to his room, and inform him of Rachel's absence, when she heard the lobby doors swings open.

"Rye! Sorry I'm," Rachel glanced down her watch and then smiled, "early."

"Well early is a problem around here," Rylie laughed in relief as she pulled her friend into a large hug and nodded at Quinn who was beaming with pride. "Arthur is actually in the auditorium taking notes on the dance routines, it shouldn't be much longer. Do you have a song picked out?"

"Oh, um," Rachel paused for a moment before the song came to her, "Yes. Yes I do."

* * *

Jesse heard her enter the theatre, the sound of her sweet voice drawing him in. She did not even sing yet and yet he was completely done for. He could hardly contain his composure as he waited within his dressing room. How on earth was he going to survive being in the same room as her? His hands were shaking, his throat was uncomfortably dry, and his palms were starting to get a slight film of sweat. If he was anyone other than Jesse St James, he would think this was what being nervous felt like.

He was taking a steadying breath when the auditorium door slammed shut. _It's time_ he thought and gingerly stepped out of the safety of his dressing room. He could not be seen by anyone until the right moment, and now that tricky transition from sanctuary to war arrived. He felt like a spy as he skillfully slinked down the hallway. He had almost made it safely, and unseen to the auditorium doors when an eerily familiar voice filled his ears.

"I'll be right back Rylie, just heading to the washroom," was all he heard before a warm body connected with his. "Sorry, I was—Jesse?" And there goes his cover.

"Quinn." He whispered and nodded quickly before glancing back down the hall towards his dressing room, where his haven was.

"I don't know, I don't want to know," She stated flatly raising both her hands in surrender, "I'll ask Rylie later, I have a feeling she is a part of this. Just don't upset her, not now, not today." Moving past him towards the restroom in hast, Jesse felt as if he was losing his shot at Rachel. He could not let Quinn slip away and back into the auditorium without knowing. He could not let her talk to Rachel without knowing. He caught her arm before she could move any further, hoping not to freak her out or send her the wrong message in anyway.

"Quinn, I just want her happy." The realization dawned in her eyes. It was as if everything was answered, why he was there, his emotions, all of it illuminated before her. She let out a sigh as he released her arm from his grasp.

"St James, I can't say this because I am literally not allowed to be on your side, but," she paused for a moment, glancing around her to ensure the secrecy of her words. "I'm rooting for you. You better have a damn good reason." He nodded at her parting words and slid into the back row of the auditorium. He watched as Quinn appeared a few moments later, walking down the aisles, past his row, giving him a subtle nod before joining Arthur and Rylie at the director's table. He watched Quinn whisper something to Rylie who nodded gently giving the necessary introductions. He hardly heard the conversation, his attention fixated on the stage before him, waiting for his fantasy to take form, the voices registering somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Art, this is Quinn, a dear friend of both mine and Rachel's. Quinn this is Arthur Hammel, the director of our little play here." Rylie's voice fluttered through.

"I would hardly call this production little Rylie," He said as she shook Quinn's hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, but Rachel is the one who should merit the pleasure of your introduction." Quinn was smooth, and he realized it in that moment. Skillfully boasting about the 'auditionee' in such a charmingly clever way. _She's good_ was all he thought as he continued waiting in the agony.

"I look forward to meeting the great Rachel Berry, as well. Rylie has told me so much about her."

"And here she is now," He felt his world drop into his stomach. He nearly ran down the aisles to the front row, wanting to be as close as possible to her audition, but he gripped the armrests, grounding himself as the electricity shocked through him, stopping his heart with tremendous force. He only heard her footsteps, and yet her presence was intoxicating. "Rachel, what will you be singing for us today?" Rylie asked, getting right to the point of her audition.

"I will be singing 'Death on Two Legs' by Queen." Her voice, god, her voice. It was only ten words, and yet he felt the earth give way underneath him. Then, he saw _her. _Rachel Berry, the goddess of the stage. Her dark locks flowing down her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. She had grown up beautifully, her face slightly thinner than before, and obviously older. Not too old, perfect for her age. Perfect like she was. Her body was still petite, but her curves were extenuated. Her breasts larger and her hips swaying to the beat of the British band he never expected her to sing. Her brown orbs shimmered in the stage light, expressing the emotions in her song.

Her voice stopped time. It was as if he was suspended in limbo watching her stomp all over the stage, expressing a type of anger that sent a chill down his spine. At this point he was not sure whether the song was for him or for Finn. He almost let himself interrupt her incredible rendition of Freddy Mercury's ballad to ask, but knowing better, he stopped himself, allowing the magnificent power of her song to wash over him in waves.

* * *

"I will be singing 'Death on Two Legs' by Queen." _A band I thought I would never sing again. _Rachel thought before taking her spot center stage, willing the emotion, the anger to come. Rachel thought about what Quinn had said to her, she thought about Finn, his unwillingness to see reason. How he managed to suppress his passion, and her dreams. Their fight, played in her mind during the instrumental introduction of the song, and his impossible stubborn attitude towards acting fueled the power needed for the first words.

_You suck my blood like a leech  
You break the law and you preach  
Screw my brain till it hurts  
You've taken all my money  
And you want more_

How could he blame their lack of money as a reason for her not to act? It was absolutely appalling. She bought the groceries, she lent him money for sporting tickets, and she was the one who paid for the darkroom, equipment and construction. She financed his dreams, like he did hers years ago, but the difference between them is she never judged or banned his passion.

_Misguided old mule with your pig headed rules  
With your narrow minded cronies  
Who are fools of the first division  
Death on two legs  
You're tearing me apart  
Death on two legs  
You've never had a heart of your own_

The backup singers joined her during the next bridge, but her voice still stood out amongst the many voices. She felt the burning rage bubbling within her stomach, overflowing into her voice, giving her the power which had built as the music progressed. She was seething with rage, the emotion and fire dripping off her tongue as she pushed her voice past the records she had set.

_Kill joy bad guy big talking small fry  
You're just an old barrow boy  
Have you found a new toy to replace me?  
Can you face me?  
But now you can kiss my ass goodbye_

In all honesty she had suspected Finn of being interested in someone more submissive than her on numerous occasions, and she longed to walk away, but something always drew her back. She assumed it to be love, as if it justified all the pain she dealt with on a daily basis. The lonely nights, the lack of affection and sexual stimulation all intensified her frustration with his lack of support. She hardly felt like a woman anymore, but that came with the territory of a long term relationship. Right?

_Feel good, are you satisfied?  
Do you feel like, suicide?  
(I think you should)  
Is your conscience all right  
Does it plague you at night?  
Do you feel good? feel good? _

Looking back, Rachel would realize that she should not be thinking about this intense rage in regards to Finn. Jesse probably deserved the rage more than her current boyfriend, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not have any form of rage towards him. It was unexplainable why during her audition, the only face in her mind, fueling every bit of hatred and anger that she conveyed was that of Finn Hudson.

_You talk like a big business tycoon  
You're just a hot air balloon  
So no one gives you a damn  
You're just an overgrown schoolboy  
Let me tan your hide_

The Post turned Finn into this big shot, someone who strived for greatness, someone much like her but with a total disregard for anything other than himself. Rachel, no matter how ambitious she had been in high school, never once forgot Finn's emotions. She always put their needs about her own, why was she not allotted that. Her mind plagued her with these questions as she sang, her voice almost growling and snarling with a power that she was sure could be felt from the back row. She was born for this._  
_

_A dog with disease  
You're the king of the 'sleaze'  
Put your money where your mouth is  
Mister know-all  
Was the fin on your back  
Part of the deal? (shark)_

She sang the final chorus, letting her voice blend with the music, and sending a feared chill through the audience. The lyrics echoing off the walls, even the curtains could not stop the tremendous voice from being suppressed. If she had a microphone there would have been enough feedback of her voice alone to rival a full band metal concert, but the power behind her words would not be hindered. _  
_

_Death on two legs  
You're tearing me apart  
Death on two legs  
You've never had a heart (you never did) of your own  
(right from the start)  
Insane you should be put inside  
You're a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride  
Should be made unemployed  
Then make yourself null and void  
Make me feel good I feel good_

There was a brief moment of silence before Arthur spoke, calmly causing her nerves to seep through.

"That was wonderful Rachel, but before we cast you, we have to check something."

* * *

As the song closed he felt the flips in his stomach intensify. There was no use in denying it now, he was nervous. Rachel Berry was the only one to invoke that feeling in him, and he was sure that anxiety was taking over. This was his moment, the time he would emerge from the darkness, like phantom seducing Christine, this was it.

"That was wonderful Rachel, but before we cast you we have to check something." Rachel's pleased smile faltered briefly as Arthur spoke calmly. "I need to see the natural chemistry between the leads."

"Of course," Rachel nodded her posture a little tight with insecurity while her smile was still firm in place. "I'd be happy to perform with Christian." The joy in her voice was genuine, or so Jesse assumed, as he watched Arthur nod to Rylie. _I'm up,_ he thought rising from his seat.

"St James!" Rylie's voice boomed off the walls and he watched Rachel visibly stiffen. It was as if she went catatonic from shock, and he his chance blown slightly.

"Calm yourself Graham, I am right here, no need to yell." He pulled the infamous smug tone out, hoping not to drive Rachel off the stage, but he could not let his vulnerability shine through just yet. It was sure to just infuriate her further. "Seeing as you're in the mood for Queen Berry, Seaside an octave lower?"

* * *

She almost fainted when she heard his name, but then she heard his voice. Had he been there watching the whole time? Did Rylie have some sort of hand in this? But how could she have known about this when Rachel had never told her best friend _his_ name before. Those questions raced through her mind as she watched him walk up the steps to the stage with such ease and confidence. It was as if he owned the stage, and after realizing his position in the play, she figured he sort of did.

"You ready Rachel?" Arthur's voice blasted through her shock, sending her into a tailspin of fury. He was Christian, the best male lead Rylie has ever seen. _Oh god, _She thought as the realization hit her. She had to sing with Jesse, dance with Jesse. She had to _kiss_ Jesse for Christ sake. How on earth would she do that professionally when his kiss still burned her flesh? "Don't worry I will give you a moment to arrange the piece." Arthur said, hoping for some response and Rachel weakly nodded.

"Y-Yes Mr. Hammel, I am ready. I was just thinking of choreography that's all." She forced her features into a blank cool canvas. A move that she learned from the very man before her.

"Flawless showface Rach," His voice was still like butter. Smooth and fattening even. The words dripped off his tongue, basting her mind. She had nearly forgotten how deliciously addictive his voice was until she had heard it again. "So, I figure we could do a basic tap, have fun with it. A mid C is still in your range I assume, and I feel like we could harmonize perfectly on that key. Is that alright with you?" He asked, and she finally allowed herself to look at him, really look at him.

His features matured, his face more defined and body obviously toned. His curls however, were still fastidiously groomed into place while his ice blue eyes were still as piercing as ever. They melted all the pain within her body as she locked her gaze with his. She was falling again, and she could not let that happen. "If you don't want to do Seaside that's fine, we could do a different song. How about 'Push' by Matchbox Twenty. Rob Thomas has a good range we could work with, but I figured Mercury treats us both so well, and since 'Death on Two Legs' is so angry, why not lighten the mood. Y'know show off your diversity in emotions."

He was rambling, and Rachel almost giggled at how adorable he was. Such a handsome and arrogant man talking at a rapid speed, stumbling over his words slightly, was oddly adorable, and it was as if she dropped further into his charms. A shy smile graced her lips and she saw him relax a little at the action before the one thing she thought she had under control happened. Her stupid brain filter just stopped working.

"Did you know?" she blurted out, and he mouthed a silent what, "That I was coming, did you know?" she pressed, her former independence blazing to the forefront, and he could not lie to her, not at all. The answer shone in his eyes as he sighed and nodded. The stage light reflected off his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes, along with the guilt that spread through him. She saw the physical effects of his remorse on his face, and a sudden shame filled her. "Why?"

They both knew what she was asking but he did not have the time. They did not have the time, not now. In a few moments they would have to sing, Jesse needed at least ten minutes to explain, and Rachel could not bear to hear the story so soon. She was still trying to adjust to the sound of his voice, and resist it. Taking a breath, she shut her eyes briefly, her time in the rain flashing behind closed lids. The feel of forgiveness washing over her, but unforgotten pain still lingered.

"Maybe we should sing first then I'll explain. It's not me who is auditioning." Jesse finally spoke but before she could even nod her head, he spoke again. "I want to, explain that is, but I can't now. I promise I will."

"Your promises mean nothing to me." She snapped and he physically flinched, a pang of the same pain he felt mirrored in her. _When did I become this?_ She thought to herself. "Sorry," she offered and he waved it off, regarding it as deserved punishment for the pain he caused. "How about we just sing Seaside for now? Basic tap and we will have to 'wing' the vocals and choreography. I just want to get this over with so I need to clear my head."

"Rach," Jesse started, placing a hand gingerly upon her arm.

"You lost the right to console me a long time ago Jesse." _God this is hard_ she thought as she attempted to keep the cool wall between them. She did not want to fall for him, not again, and just being near him was proving that task to be extremely difficult. "Work is work, and this is work, so let's just do it already." He gave her a sheepish smile and cued the pianist, the music for Seaside Rendezvous by Queen started up instantly.

Their steps were immediately synched, a basic tap routine none of them faltering in the slightest. They flowed together in perfect harmony, and then his voice began. It was even more exquisite than before, like velvet and cream, heading straight to her heart, and blocking an artery. It was as if her heart was going to explode from cholesterol, and when her own voice joined his, the blissful perfect that was the song dawned upon her.

It was so easy with Jesse, it was always was. What happened so long ago did not have to hinder her potential role in this production. She turned into him, feeling the heat wrap around her, his chest rising and falling against her back in time with her breaths. She felt at home, the unique feeling of his embrace washing her precious fears. _I shouldn't be feeling like this _she thought as she took the next line, finishing the song on a high that she never expected.

A standing ovation from everything sent her qualms into silence. The applause reviving her soul, bringing the former Rachel Berry back from the dead. _I really do live on applause._

* * *

_**Please Review! I love to hear your feedback.**_


	7. Chapter 6: Guilty Dreams

**Author's Note:**

I want to say, I am ashamed that this has taken me so long. I am also posting it fast, so it may contain mistakes I am sorry for. I just felt terrible about not getting anything up for soooo long and I wanted to apologize. Hopefully it wont take me long to update the next chapter :(

But because i felt so bad this is a **LEMON** chapter. you have been warned.

I would love to hear feed back and some suggestions. Thanks! please review.

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own glee.

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Guilty Dreams and Painful Reactions**

* * *

_ It was dark, almost freakishly dark. The blackness appeared to swallow up everything; all the light, all the sound, was eaten away by the nothingness that closed in. Tunnel vision at its worst is what Rachel would use to describe this. She vaguely heard the echoing of her heals as she moved through the unknown but it seemed the way was laid out for her, as if she was following a set path that seemed so familiar._

"_I can't see anything down here," her frustrated tone barely broke through the black barrier and she rubbed her eyes in attempt to clear the growing fog that clouded her vision further, "where are you?" Her whisper was just a touch louder than it was before. She did not understand why she was even there. How could she? All she could recall was a list of instructions, instructions that were not very clear, just like the person who gave them to her. Jesse St James was never very clear with anything he did so why would it change now? Sure, her reason to be there was a mystery but the situation itself kind of made sense. _

_Reaching her arms out she desperately searched for something, or someone, to help guide her as she continued through the shadow which grew thicker each step forward she took. The silence seemed stronger than it was before she ventured and the nervous gulp she took did nothing against it. _Why did I listen to him?_ She thought cursing her naivety. _

"_I need you," She muttered to herself and the hopelessness hung lower over her mind. Each passing second felt like a century and the adventure, which at the beginning seemed reasonable, turned terrifying. Rachel's memory played, almost automatically, the last moments she saw him in her mind. _

_Two minutes before she descended down the little wooden ladder to, what she now considered to be, her doom she felt his lips kiss hers passionately. Her eyes fluttered open and saw him take the few downward steps. She watched as his figure disappeared into the darkness of the haul; his golden curls, silvered by the moonlight, overcome by the heavy shadow. That was the last she saw of him. _

_Her steps hesitated for a moment before pushing herself further. Even with the cold advancing around her, the numbing silence and feelings of abandonment, she still felt him nearby. It was a feeling that gave her hope. The hope that finding him meant everything would be righted. _

"_Jesse," the whisper of his name managed to echo, louder than her heals, louder than her breath, louder than the faint sounds of waves crashing into the dock. His name managed to break the frightening fog. So she whispered his name again, with more force this time, as she stepped cautiously across the lower deck of the boat which she helped him paint the day before. _

_Jesse and Rachel had spent the rest of his senior year constructing a new boat in their spare time since his last one had - "a little problem with gasoline which I should have fixed." Jesse's words rang clearly in her head as she remembered Noah's temper over his betrayal to Glee. The guilt rushed through her at the thought of the arson which was no doubt her fault. _

"Rachel Berry, this is not your fault. Do not go blaming yourself for whatcouldn't be avoided. Promise me that."_ His voice rang again, mentally slapping her, acting as a reminder of the promise she gave him. She smiled at the agreement they had made since Noah's act of revenge. They would spend the next months in his garage, building a new boat together and enjoying each other's company as they continued their secret romantic affair. _

_Getting out their mutual frustrations over Glee by building was oddly therapeutic. With sanding, hammering, sawing, and painting, all of their angers melted until they were left in a bubble of bliss. It was rewarding and a learning experience she truly cherished. She smiled remembering how excited they both got when his new boat, _their_ new boat was finished in time for his last summer month in Ohio. _

"_Jesse," she called out again, her long hair brushing against her arm startling her. She slapped the strand away as if it were a bug and steadied her breath, "why on earth am I down here?" She continued, stumbling slightly across the floor as it rocked against a large unexpected wave that entered the harbour. She regained her center and drew in a deep breath before continuing. The Cedar floor boards creaked slightly as she inched further away from the ladder but Rachel smiled as a calming aroma filled her lungs. It soothed her almost immediately, just as it had when she was a young girl afraid of the dark. _

_She remembered going to the lumber yard with her father, Hiram, to pick out the timber for her new furniture set, which he promised to make her. She was no older than nine but she remembered it vividly. How her other father, Leroy, made her wear jeans and t-shirt instead of her favourite pink dress which was already torn from playing at school. How Hiram held onto her hand as she perused through the selection in the back because a catalogue alone was not a good enough way to judge the wood's colour, feel and smell. She even remembered how her fingertips ran across the cedar planks before bending over to take in as much of the smell as she could, and how her father laughed with the owner about her so-called expensive taste. She could not help but let out a small laugh to herself thinking about how Jesse said the same thing to her just months prior when he let her pick the wood for the boat, with his approval of course._

_Warm fingertips brushed against her arm causing her to jump once more. She turned quickly, bumping into a large wall of heat and looked up to see a young man's face glowing through the night. His ice blue eyes shone brightly, fixating on her face, and melted by the fire in her own brown orbs. His arms secured her in his embrace as he breathed her scent in, running his fingers up and down her arms. The feel of his touch triggered a desire to fill her, the memories of kissing passionately after they loaded the last of the supplies into the garage fuelling the fire, and was glad that it was too dark for him to see her blush._

"_Wait a moment and your eyes will adjust," He brushed a strand of her hair away, tucking it gently behind her ear. "You're shaking," he added, pulling her closer with one arm, as he reached into the fog and grasped onto something. He quickly pulled a soft fabric around her shoulders and began guiding her deeper into the darkness. She let him take her willingly, not even the least bit surprised that a large pillow became visible when they finally reached a halt. _

"_Rachel," he said waiting for her to sit before he continued, "you don't need to whisper you know. We're just in the harbour." When the truth of his words hit her, she let out a soft laugh. "You thought you were in a horror movie didn't you?" His laughter joined her in perfect harmony when she nodded. The smile he set her made her flutter and warmed her core so much it radiated out to the rest of her body. The blanket was becoming useless but she still kept it wrapped securely around her shoulders, needing some sort of physical connection to him. When they both settled on against the wall of the boat, hands intertwined, staring at one another with an intense fixation, she realized that, this time, she could see through the black._

_The moonlight from the window of the vessel blanketed the area they were in but the rest of the lower deck remained hidden in shadow. The ambiance of the moment was breathtaking. She could make Jesse's face out perfectly, his skin like ivory as the moonlight clung to him; his eyes were brighter than before but instead of ice, she just saw pools of warm waters, rocking with the rhythm of waves just outside them. _

"_I know I was being a little dramatic," she let the blush creep across her face when she realized she had been staring at him; he did not know how much he truly impressed her or how many feelings he invoked within her heart. He had such raw talent and potential to wield at his will and his immense training perfected it. He was smug and arrogant when it came to his vocals, dancing and acting, with logical reason, but Jesse was truly modest about his other gifts. _

_Jesse possessed a strength and courage to speak the truth to the ones he loved just because it was the right thing. He had proved that to her when he came clean about his funkification, it was just the start of their secret affair. She loved that about him, his courage, but he did not know it was one of her favourite qualities. He had no idea how much she wanted him all the time either. _

_How when he crawled through her window, tears stinging his eyes, unable to speak or move as he locked eyes with her. The guilt he felt radiated off his face, only being highlighted by the tremor of his hands as they reached for her. All she wanted was too give herself to him fully, reassure him she was his and, although he was competing against her now, she always would be. _

"_I just— I get scared easily sometimes." She admitted and laughed to herself again as she pulled the blanket he had given her closer. His strength and courage of conviction gave her life; she fed off of his energy, making her want to be the best she could be. She had come clean about her mother's arrival to her dads, because of him. And again he had no idea. _

_Yet, they were still so in tune. He may not have known for sure, but he for sure felt everything she did. He felt her thoughts as they sat in the darkness of the boat. She leaned back against the wall and sighed softly. She truly felt beautiful with the way he always stared at her, as if she was a goddess before him. "So," she straightened up and met his stare, "why am I here Jesse?"_

"_Just because," His gaze remained fixated on her, the warm blue pools climbing in temperature as he continued to take in her body. "Ok, ok." He raised his hands up in defeat, the sleeves of his sweater rolling down his toned arm, exposing the muscles that lay beneath the skin, sending a pang of desire through core. "I'll tell you, but you have to sit down first." He gestured to the pillow next to him; she shifted over and gave him her full attention. _

_She could see he was struggling, trying to avoid why she was there in the first place, so she waited patiently allowing him to gather his thoughts and enjoying the feel of him next to her. Heat radiated off of Jesse's body, acting as a fire, and any chill Rachel may have felt was fully gone. _It's always so hard for him to open up._ She thought looking upon him once more, noticing a pain and a hunger she had never seen before._

"_I'm leaving Rachel," He stated and broke his stare. She remained silent, shocked, and stiff. "I have to get out of here, even if it is just for a little while. It's this town. This place is killing all aspects of, well, me. I just got me back and with Vocal Adrenaline and Nationals, I think I am being broken bit by bit. You're the only one who is keeping me alive and I can't put that on you." He took a breath and finally let his eyes met her gaze, which for some reason was full of tears. _

_He turned to kneel in front of her and brushed a tear from her cheek. "It's not like I'm that special Berry." He smiled and moved the hair from her face, letting his hand cup her cheek and she leaned into his touch. "And I have to leave at the end of the summer anyway." Her eyes widened at his words, which caused his touch to stiffen, and a chill to roll down her back. They never talked about his dreadful departure to college, though they both knew it had to come sooner or later. Rachel was hoping it would be discussed later, but unfortunately the moment was upon them. _

"_Where are you going?" She pushed him back so he fell on his butt, "and for how long?" Her voice was stern, demanding her answer. Other than UCLA where on earth could he run away from her to?_

"_I was thinking of just sailing the boat around the coast, until I have to school. I have to be back in time to get ready my stuff for college." He moved to regain his seat next to her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his side, not caring for her protest. She rested her head on his shoulder in silence, both staring off into the darkness. Although she was angry, the instant his warmth connected with her body, she could not resist the pull, the need to be close to him. _

_He could not leave. He was the only one there for her. He was the only one who listened and cared. Her own mother adopted another baby after refusing to have a relationship with her. Her fathers were arguing all the time and her glee family was falling apart at the seams. She could not help but feel the same way as him. Lima, Ohio was like a black hole. It swallowed all the talent it harboured, forcing it to stay in this nowhere town. Lima-Losers, all this town consisted of was Lima-Losers. Drones that marched down the streets in a sickening formation and it what she refused to partake in. She was drowning just as much as he was, so why should he leave and not her? _

_It did not seem fair to her one bit. She was contemplating a trip of her own to New York when suddenly the idea hit her. It hit her hard; harder than a ton of bricks falling off a tower and onto her head. She felt a sly smile creep across her lips and immediately jumped up to meet his surprised gaze._

"_What?" He asked concerned, raising a sceptical eyebrow at what she assumed was her pacing._

"_Well," she started, letting her smile widen to almost double in size. "I just had an idea." Jesse's curious eyes begged for her to let him onto her secret she was hiding from him and Rachel continued, "I am going with you." _

"_Wha-what?" She expected his reaction to be a filled with a little more enthusiasm than that, but the light that suddenly awoke in his eyes was more than the encouragement she need. He stood from his seat, placing a hand on her shoulder, as if to see if she was real. _

"_I am coming with you. Do you have a problem with that, Jesse St James?" She asked, giving him a slug on his shoulder. "I need to get away from here just as much, if not more, than you do. I deserve my vacation from Lima too." She felt as if his ego rubbed off on her, stubborn arrogance taking over all other reason. She wanted this and she would not stop until she got it. _

"_Fine," he smiled, not furthering his response and Rachel was just excited that she won so easily. She jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his midsection while her arms circled around his neck. She felt his forearms wrap under her legs, supporting her weight easily, while her face nuzzled into the crook of her neck and shoulder._

"_Thank you," she whispered to him, her hot breath against his skin; she could taste the sweet flavour of his own breath on her neck and it drove her mad for more. "I need this," She finished, pulling back to rest her forehead against his. He lunged forwards, pulling her chest flush against him, the friction sending shivers of passion through them both as their lips clashed together. One of his hands was tangled in her hair and the other held her waist as she tightened her arms around his neck. _

_Rachel moaned into his lips as the kiss deepened, his fingers running up and down the exposed skin of her thighs, his movements in time with the gentle waves caused her to burn with want. His tongue was battling hers in a vicious war of dominance and somehow they wound up back on the pillows. He hovered above her his hands running down her sides mimicking her own which travelling up his back. She wanted him, no needed him, and as her own hands ran through his hair, tugging gently on his curls, she knew that this was it. She was ready. _

"_Jesse," she whispered as they broke for air. Her taste danced through his palate, less diluted than before, richer and fuller, concentrated. Their chests were heaving with passion, a passion which was foreign to her but it seemed to envelope her in a way that she knew it was natural. It was so strong that it taught her all she needed to know with each passing second she revelled in it. He kissed her forehead and pulled her close once more. "I'm ready." His breath hitched in his throat at her words, before he spoke. _

"_You sure?" His eyes were wide, his voice hoarse, but his arms were strong and his heart pounded against her own. The waters reached a boil as he gazed down at her with lust. She nodded, slightly taken back by his emotions. His lips claimed hers again, gently at first then becoming more heated. He slowly positioned himself in between her thighs, his jeans coming into to contact with skin under her skirt. Arousal seeped through her underwear, when she felt his clothed stiffness rub against her core. They both groaned, craving more friction and less clothing._

_She tugged at the hem of his shirt and, with a chuckle, he pulled it over his head, throwing it into the blackness. His toned body, blanketed with the moonlight, sent a thrill through her and she instinctively rolled her hips against him. He growled in pleasure before reclaiming her lips. Her nails scrapped across his back while his fingers danced up her thigh. _

"_Rach," he moaned as her hand slipped down the front of his chest. Sitting up, she pulled her tank top over her head, tossing it to join his forgotten shirt. She saw his surprise at the lack of bra she had on. Her breasts free and exposed for him and he faltered just for a moment before smiling and kissing his way down her neck._

_Taking a nipple in his mouth, he sucked and licked at the sensitive bud, and Rachel felt her head loll back. She was in bliss when skills fingers were ever so gently rubbing against her soaked center causing her to gasp at the new feeling. _

"_Jesse," She moaned as his thumb circled her clit, teasing her mercifully. Finally pushing the fabric aside, he dipped a finger into her folds, watching as pleasure scorched through her body. "Oh God," her voice rose with power, his thumb still circling her clit as he slowly pumped in an out of her. His tongue traced the movements of his thumb on her nipple, sucking and biting at the flesh as she screamed with desire. His hands sped up by her demand, bringing her to the brink, the waves of lava flowing over her as the boat rocked with equal force on the water. The pressure built within her, her body burning with desire, her screams growing to silent gasps. _

"_Let go baby," he spoke huskily, thrusting his hips against her thigh to relieve his own tension slightly. Suddenly the pressure exploded into hurricane winds of a burning wildfire, whipping through her body, shaking with an indescribable heat, causing her to scream his name. He slowed his fingers, riding out her orgasm as her body still trembled. Shifting gently against her, he kissed her passionately while her hands tangling within his curls, bringing him closer. A groan escaped him as he felt her still shaky hands unbuckle his belt._

"_We don't have to, I'd understand," he spoke, the lust evident, but his control impressive._

"_I'm sure," she said as she stood on shaky legs. He watched with curiosity as she reached behind her, unzipping her skirt in the back. It pooled around her feet as she stepped out of it. Pulling him onto his feet, Rachel felt her confidence skyrocket. His eyes wandered her mostly naked form, admiring her beauty and she smiled at his stunned silence before unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. _

_Dropping to her knees she pulled them down his legs, watching with wonder as his stiffness twitched within his boxers. He moaned as she tentatively pulled his boxers down, freeing him from the confinement and took him within her hand. He savoured the contact for a moment before yanking her up by the shoulders his lips crashing onto hers._

_Kicking his pants and boxers away from his feet, he pulled them back down the pillow, thrusting his hips against her still, surprisingly, clothed center. They moaned into the kiss, but broke apart reluctantly when Jesse slowly pulled the undergarment off her. He stared in awe at the event desire soaking her legs, her core glistening with arousal in the moonlight. She wanted him so badly, and when their gazes locked and he aligned himself at her entrance, she knew he wanted her just as badly._

"_Please," She whispered into his kiss, her hands resting on his biceps, pulling him forward. _

"_Please what?" He asked, begging her to say what she wanted, the tone of his voice erupted the fire she felt before all over again._

"_I need you," She whispered again, pulling him forward, but he still remained at her entrance._

"_Need me to what?" He growled as he kissed her neck, sucking at the flesh just below her ear, ensuring his mark be left on her. She sighed blissfully at the feeling, she was his and no one else's; that mark would be a reminder of that._

"_Jesse, fuck me," He paused for a brief moment before kissing her lips again, her vulgarity taking him by surprise but exciting him further. He slowly eased himself into her, stopping to let her adjust to the size. It was uncomfortable at first, his size stretching her but it did not hurt as much as she thought it would. It actually did not hurt at all, she wanted more almost instantly. She wanted friction, she needed him to move so she rolled her hips to his. A passion flickering in his eyes rushed across his face as he rested his forehead against hers. Taking the hint he started thrusting slow and deep, a moan escaping her lips each time he plunged into her._

"_Faster," she pleaded as she felt the pressure building more than before. He obliged, rearing his hips back and pumping into her with more speed. Her hips met his with each thrust and he groaned against her neck as her nails scraped the flesh of his back leaving a mark of her own._

"_Rachel." He moaned, "God you're so good, so so good." He panted and when, Rachel's walls tightening around him, he reached his hand in between them, rubbing her clit. "Cum baby, I can't hold on any longer," His demand sent her flying, her walls tightening wildly around him with such a force, it milked him, and they moaned each other's names as they rode out their orgasms. He stayed buried in her for a moment before pulling out and Rachel immediately felt empty. He wrapped an arm around her as she curled into his side, hearing his heartbeat steady to a normal pace and his breathing slow to an even rhythm. He ran his fingers up and down her arm, causing shivers to run down her back again. _

"_I need this too," he whispered to her, but she knew he was referring to their joint trip just as much as their sexual connection._

"_So, when we leaving?" she asked looking up at him with curious eyes._

"_Tomorrow?" he suggested, smiling again remembering that she was coming with him._

"_Can we do that the whole trip?" She asked placing a finger on his lips._

"_Rachel," he started, a smirk quirking his lips upward as his voice dropped to a husky low point, "Are you seducing me?" He asked mockingly._

* * *

Rachel eyes snapped open. She was still panting, her dream leaving her feeling more breathless than she ever had with anyone since the memory. It was as if her mind was trying to remind her of what letting go truly was suppose to feel like. Rolling onto her side she felt the liquid heat rub against her thighs and groaned in frustration.

She had been with Finn for years and still she was unable to have an orgasm in front of him. The movements of fingers were awkward and never able to locate the spot which sent her flying into a colourful explosion. His tongue, if he used it, was too flat, too wide, and never truly tasted her. His penis, although large in length, was missing a hint of girth. It was always the same position as well, and never did he angle his dick in a way that rubbed her sensitive spots. Finn was just never able to make her feel the way Jesse had that one night.

The night that still lingered in her dreams, always teasing her, the way Jesse did. Always starting but never ending. Rachel's bolted into a stepping position, her eyes wide, her breath short with the desire of his fuelling. It was then she realized that her dream finally completed. After years of lacking a conclusion, she was able to dream through the whole memory. Being around and singing with him for fifteen minutes was enough to cause a complete dream. A hot and sweaty sex dream, but a dream none the less.

She turned her head to the clock, six thirty it read. Rachel Berry was able to sleep a full night. It was as if some miracle was bestowed upon her. She let her smile grow before she realized the sick truth. It was Jesse's presence that allowed her to sleep. Jesse St James, the man that left her alone in Lima to the hands of Vocal Adrenaline. Jesse St James, the man who ruined her ability to trust anyone. Jesse St James, the man who she dreamed about but was not her boyfriend.

Glancing over to Finn's side of the bed with guilt Rachel suddenly became worried. Finn's sleep filled body normally laid next to her on the bed, but tonight there was nothing. Running his fingers across the fabric she realized it was cold. The blanket was neat where it normally would be mangled from his movements. The pillow was horizontal at the headboard where it normally would be vertical and trapped in his tight grasp. Finn was not home yet. And Rachel was having a sex dream about another man.

The only thought that got her through it was to find Finn. Tears were about to break free, but she had to focus on ensuring Finn was alive and not dead in the streets of New York. Slipping out of bed she put on a robe and heading down the hall to the kitchen, hoping to find a note. She frowned when none was placed on the counter.

"Finn" she called out through the dark apartment. "Are you developing?" she before stepping into the darkroom only to find it empty. Panic filled her. He did not come home. _Where on earth was he going tonight? _She thought before she reached for the phone and dialled the number to the puckerman residence. Noah and Finn always drank together at the local bar when a game was on.

"Hello?" A groggy sounding Quinn answered with a frustrated Noah swearing in the background.

"Is Finn there?" Rachel asked, not bothering to apologize for the early hour.

"Rachel? No he isn't." Quinn mumbled before letting out a sigh. Rachel knew Quinn could sense her panic. "What's wrong?"

"He didn't come home. When did he and Noah finish at the bar?" Rachel's fingers tapped against the counter, as she heard the rustling of sheets and Quinn's mumbled question to her obviously half asleep husband.

"Around two, Rach, Noah was home by three." Quinn's voice was hushed, obviously trying to take caution in avoiding a drunk Noah's half asleep frustration. "It takes an hour to get home from the bar. Finn should have been back, are you sure he isn't in the darkroom?"

"I checked everywh—"

"Rachel!" Finn hollered through front, interrupting Rachel's answer. She immediately stopped pacing only to freeze in the middle of the living room.

"Rach, was that Finn?" Finn's shouting must have been louder than Rachel thought because the worry Quinn had was conveyed through the phone. She could vaguely hear Noah's groan at being woken up but Rachel's form was still frozen. Finn called her name again, louder than before, and the worry only intensified in Quinn's tone. "Is Finn just getting in now?"

"Hang on Quinn," Rachel said, placing the phone down the table, as Finn walked into the living room. Quinn normally would have hung up but something in the air caused her to jump. She sensed that she should stay on the line. So she placed the phone on speaker, waking Noah up to hear the conversation just in case it got ugly and Rachel needed back up. "Finn did you just get in?" Rachel asked timidly.

"You went to that audition," Finn's voice was slurred, and Rachel took a step back towards the armchair on the other side of the room.

"I-I, how do you know?" She stuttered, and Finn moved closer.

"Puck told me. Said he was 'really proud you're getting back in the game.'" Finn's voice dripped with disgust and anger as stumbled closer. "I can't believe this Rachel."

"Finn, listen, it pays really well and—"

"I don't give a fuck anymore!" he shouted. He was obviously drinking past two. With who Rachel did not know, but at this point she hardly cared. She took another step back and managed to put the armchair in between Finn and herself.

"I-I'm sorry, but they loved me Finn—"

"Did they call you back yet?" He interrupted again. She was not going to be able to finish a sentence any time soon.

"Well no, not yet but—" Still she tried, her voice quivering with a fear she never knew Finn could create.

"And why do you think that is Rachel?" He shouted ever louder, finally reaching her. The armchair seemed useless now, but she was still happy she had it. He towered over her, his height acting as another advantage he had over her.

"I-I don't kn—"

"Grow up Rachel. You'll never be on Broadway." He spit the words at her like venom, and the tears started to roll down her cheeks. Finn used to the only one to believe in her. The only one who really supported her, and now his support was all crashing down in front of her, just like her dreams. "It's pathetic this dream of yours."

"Finn, please—" She choked slightly on her tears, her breath coming out in heavy pants. She was glad Finn kept interrupting her because there was no way she could form a complete sentence now.

"No, I don't want to hear it. We talked about this, and you went behind my back." He did not finish instead he looked at her with hate, his hand reaching over the chair, and gripping her shoulder so hard Rachel was sure a bruise would arise tomorrow. "I'm going to bed, I can't even fucking look at you." With that he walked down the hall and into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the enter apartment rattled complimenting the ringing in Rachel's ears.

She stood stock still, tears rolling down her cheeks and a tingling pain radiating down her arm. The sobs she suppressed before were coming out full force, and when she heard a frantic shouting coming from a muffled source she sobbed harder with embarrassment.

"Rachel," the voice called out in between her sobs as she reached for the forgotten phone receiver wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. She hissed slightly as the pain in her shoulder hindered the movement of her arm.

"Oh god Quinn, I'm sorry so you had to head that." She said struggling to hold the tears from her voice. The last thing she needed was pity from Quinn through this. She had done enough by getting her to go to that audition and Rachel was still truly thankful for it despite Finn's reaction and her guilty dream. "Please just go back to–"

"Berry," Noah's voice was strong and firm, any traces of alcohol that may have remained in his bloodstream was gone as the seriousness echoed through the receiver. "If you don't get your ass in a cab and over here right now I'll kill you myself."

* * *

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 7: Fantasy, History and Clarity

**Author's Note:**

So, I know it has been some time since I uploaded anything on this story. I really hope you all don't hate me for taking so long. I just got a computer back since my old one crashed. And to be honest, I really just had a severe case of writer's block with this piece.

I promise I do plan on finishing this, I just don't know how long it will take.

That being said. I hope you enjoy this instalment. I truly am grateful for all of your patience.

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own glee. If I did, I would be super rich, and probably not writing fanfiction since I would be writing real episodes.

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Fantasy, History and Clarity**

* * *

The smell of pine floor cleaner mingled with the freshness of leather armchairs, creating the strangest of aromas. It was disorienting, yet at the same time comforting. As if the bafflement of her senses created an illusion in which Rachel Berry could finally see her life with clarity. The stock white walls were brightened by strong sun light, adding a shine to the empty canvas to which she could paint her life anew.

In her peripherals Rachel saw the red velvet curtains, lined with a golden yarn fringe, ready to be drawn shut on the little fantasy she was living. She chose to focus on the bountiful laughter of the fictional audience. The excitement bounced through the acoustics of the theatre as Rachel pulled off the clever comedic relief that was intricately placed within the lyrics. The gasps of the shocked critics softly echoed as her voice grasped the high note so far out of others' reach. The golden locks of her talented co-star caught the light, glowing with a molten candlelit gloss, while his dazzling voice matched her harmony, elating it the song to a new high.

_Damn, _her inner narrator cursed as the spotlight blanketed Jesse St. James face, highlighting his physical perfections. Even here, within the safety of her mind, his incredulous reputation invaded her. It is her time to heal, not his. Still, the heat of his touch, the velvet of his voice, the scorch of his burning star managed to scold her within the most intimate of places. It is her place for therapy, her stardom that needs igniting and yet, her flames hardly feel extinguished. No, if anything, his heat, his fire, fuels her spark into an inferno. She cannot escape him, a fact that becomes increasingly aware of as the painting of her untouchable, unachievable life melds to hold him within the centre sphere.

The dark wood of ceiling-high bookshelves contrasting against the latte coloured walls. The photos of a life that could have existed were arranged on the stone mantle of a rustic fireplace. Cast parties, family dinners, and private evenings alone, were glimpses of the two lives in joint; their faces captured in the clear glass highlighting their immense happiness. Her eyes were entranced by her own, a doppelganger, living in a moment that never actually happened, but a soft giggle drew her attention.

Rachel's gaze followed down the hall. The black picture frames lining the walls held posters, playbills and ticket stubs of all the shows made great by the touch of unrivalled talents. Antique furniture, simple decorations, the smell of pine cleaner and leather armchairs, all materialized around her, creating this new imaginary home.

Taking a deep breath, letting the aroma fill her lungs, Rachel's strength was revived. She began on a route, one that seemed predetermined. The gentle humming and soft laughter, which barrelled through the apartment, acted as her guide. Rachel could almost feel the drywall under her fingertips as she glided her hand down the hallway wall towards the golden light of candles glowing through the almost heavenly looking doorway. Her breath hitched when the harmony of _their_ laughter fused within her mind, and when she finally let her eyes fall through the threshold, Rachel was sure she felt the wetness drip down her cheeks.

Her heart stopped for an agonizingly blissful moment. There on the floor _they_ laid intertwined. His golden curls twisted in her fist while his hands ran down her body. Their smiles sprinkled with dashes of ecstasy and ultimate joy, a joy denied to her conscious reality. Her dark brown hair fell like a curtain down to the black and white tile floor, as she arched her back. His fingers were hidden in between her thighs, his teeth were gently nipping at her lower lip, but it was their gaze, eyes locked in an exchange so intimate, which caused Rachel to blush.

She felt as if she was intruding on the most private moments. Yet, it was all happening in her head. Her fantasy life. A place that Rachel could hardly intrude on, especially on a scene that contained her naked on the floor of, supposedly, her kitchen. Rachel painted her new life all right. She painted it with a naked Jesse ravaging her, all the love she wished he would give her evident in his intense gaze. Rachel painted the future her teenage self dreamt of, a future she apparently still longed for.

_"Rachel," Jesse_ whispered, when the figment of herself closed her eyes with a soft moan. _"Rachel," He_ whispered again, but there was something off about his voice. It lacked the usual richness, but his lips were now burning a trail down her neck, one she swears she felt mirrored on her own skin.

It was disorienting. His touch, it radiated on her, but the sound of tapping fingernails for some reason was drawing her away from it. She would give anything to stay here, watching as Jesse continued to have his way with the happy Rachel she longed to switch places with. She wanted to remain consumed within the circle of pine cleaner and leather arm chairs...

"Rachel, wake up," A forceful new voice boomed drawing her eyes to open, revealing the office she sat in before. The stock white canvas mocked her now as she recovered from her fantasy.

"Sorry Dr. Cherry," Rachel said softly, her chocolate orbs scanning over light coloured wood furniture, white carpets, and black leather chairs before landing on the young brunette woman with a notepad. "I haven't done this in quite a while. I guess I forgot I had to actually talk." A small chuckle escaped Rachel's lips as she ran her hands nervously along the bottom of her skirt, picking the stray piece of lint off.

"That's perfectly alright," As she spoke, Dr. Cherry made a small note on her note pad, her bangs falling off to the side of her forehead. "And please call me Nicole."

"Ok Nicole," A new resolve rushed through Rachel, and she let out a determined breath, laying her head back against the chaise lounge. "Where should we start?"

"How about we start with what brought you to see me today Rachel?" Nicole asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Her voice was calm and reassuring, but at the same time it was professional. _A shrink voice, _Rachel thought, but the upturns of Nicole's lips made her seem so genuine. "After looking over the files from your previous psychiatric care, I'm curious as to the reason for your first visit in eight years."

"And those _reasons_ are Quinn Puckerman and Rylie Graham," Rachel laughter was light as she remembered their almost forceful request.

"Friends of yours?" Unlike an interview, the scratching of Nicole's pen was hardly a deterrent for Rachel to control her dialogue. Instead it fuelled her to divulge more.

"The best." The statement was absolute, lacking any resentment. "You see, two nights ago, my boyfriend and I got into an argument."

"Oh?" Nicole hummed, glancing up from her yellow legal pad.

"It turned quite explosive," The pen which was constantly moving stopped briefly and Rachel's eyes widen for a second, "Not physically of course, but there was a lot of yelling, and my friend Quinn and her husband—"

"His name?"

"Noah—had heard the entire exchange on the phone," Rachel paused for a moment before continuing, the need for dramatic suspense seemed far too important at that point. "They begged me to come over after the exchange and when I arrived Rylie was there as well."

* * *

"_Rachel!" Quinn's voice carried through the damp air the instant Rachel emerged from the yellow taxi. The cool of the night bit through the thick black trench Rachel wore, and she immediately hurried to the front door of Quinn's Brooklyn home. "Are you alright?"_

"_I think so," Her answer shivered through clattering teeth, as Rachel shrugged off her coat and made her way to the warmth of Quinn's sitting room. The fire, burning softly in the hearth, basted the room in an orange glow, highlighting the concerned faces of both Noah and Rylie. The sight warmed her heart and placed a smile on her lips as she hugged both of them. "Hey Rye. Noah."_

"_What the fuck happened Rach?" Noah's unmistakable anger tinged his voice._

"_Finn was just upset about the audition, that's all." Rachel said softly as she flopped onto the sofa._

"_Oh, is that all?" Sarcasm, trademark sarcasm at that. The famous Graham sarcasm, the one that etched her work, creating a new type of accented English. It was a comfort that Rachel always relished in. "Just a little yelling. No harm there right? I mean he is only suppressing your will to pursue your dreams, thus sentencing you to a future of misery and regret, but it's all in the name of love and selfish attachment so it's ok."_

"_Rylie," Quinn's voice tried to cut through her rant, but boded useless._

"_I should take this fire poker and shove it up his—"_

"_Rylie!" Rachel interjected with a gasp, "violence is not the answer here."_

"_I'm with Graham on this one," Noah commended the redhead with a pat on the back and heading towards Rachel. "I figure a girl chat is needed here, plus I'm a little lacking on sleep for work tomorrow." Giving Rachel a hug, he headed towards the hallway before adding, "You need anything, especially someone to give Finn a good ass kicking, I'm there ok?" At Rachel's nod he continued to the bedroom, and when the door clicked shut gently Quinn finally spoke again._

"_Seriously Rachel, don't give us the whole 'I'm fine really' routine," Rylie coughed, masking the correction of 'bullshit', before allowing Quinn to continue. _

Always editing _Rachel thought with a laugh, "What's happening Rach?"_

"_Honestly, Finn's outburst isn't really what's eating me up," Rachel said with finality. Rylie was about to say something, most likely a clear argument as to Rachel's last statement, but was quickly quieted. "I kind of expected this from him. He never will understand my need to be on stage. The entire drive over here I kind of accepted the inevitability of this reaction."_

"_So, what's really bothering you then?" Quinn asked, picking up on Rachel's hesitation to divulge. _

"_Jesse," Rachel said softly after a few beats of silence._

"_Jesse?" Rylie asked her voice laced with a mock confusion, but neither Quinn nor Rachel said anything about it. The smirk on her lips was enough of a giveaway. _

"_Have I ever told you what actually happened with Jesse?" The question was directed to Quinn, Rylie having heard the story long ago, but neither responded to the question. After another few moments of calm silence, Rachel continued. "You see, in high school, when we were sophomores Quinn, Jesse, who was a senior, and I started dating. You remember right?" Quinn nodded and Rachel stirred her spoon in her tea. "Well it didn't go exactly as glee club remembers it." _

_Confusion blanketed Quinn's face and Rachel let out a soft sigh. "Jesse and I, said we were over. He went back to his school after the 'funkification' vocal adrenaline did to the choir room and of course the Queen performance, but I really truly was upset about it. Actually, I was far from angry at him. You see, I knew about it." Quinn concentrated on Rachel's words, trying to relive the moments of the past, hoping to pinpoint any hint of Rachel's facade._

_"He told me why he came to McKinley after our big 'Run Joey Run' argument. Being double casted surely upset him, but moreover, it rendered him in guilt and after spring break, he broke down on my porch. He confessed it all, how Shelby asked him to come and reconnect her with me, how he was suppose to freak out the team. I knew, I knew it all. He told me weeks before I was even suppose to meet Shelby, and still I went along with it. I wanted to, I needed to. This was our story, it was how we needed to keep our relationship. We had fallen in love, but the circumstances of that love were like Finn's reaction: inevitable."_

_"Ever the drama queen," Rylie said, "Rachel, you're adding tinkles to the heart break. Seriously, you're performance is flawless." Quinn's hushing was all the cue Rachel needed to continue, a small smirk tugging at her lips at Rylie's comment._

_"Thanks Rye," Rachel said with a wave of dismissal, resuming her devastating tirade. "I was young, we both were. It was like our very own version of Romeo and Juliet. After he returned to Carmel, we would sneak into either Lima or Akorn. We spent time indoors away from the teams, __**hidden**__ from the teams." Quinn and Rylie sat in encompassed silence watching as all the emotions blanketed Rachel. The memory of joy filled their friend, gracing her lips with a wistful smile. It was then that both Quinn and Rylie knew her feelings for Jesse had hardly dissipated. "No one ever came over to my house then, and his team knew better than to venture to the St. James' household since his parents were hardly pleasant to any Vocal Adrenaline member.'_

'_We went skating at his pond, watched movies, and continued our secret affair. Of course it was passion filled, and exciting, and as I said before, I was young. I was really just hopeful for a time where we could be public again. It was quite silly actually." Rachel shook her head, clearing away the fog in which the memories created. The happiness she experienced, it was over now, she could not let lost in the cloud of happiness. "Anyway, it was all going great, sure we were in different schools again, but we were together, and happy. Except, then regionals happened. Obviously, you know the outcome Quinn, we lost. Jesse won and he had Nationals a month later. I was devastated, but I knew Jesse deserved it. His performance was honestly flawless." Rachel was looking right at Rylie as she spoke, knowing that Rylie understood just how talented Jesse was._

"_The time until his nationals was spent with constant preparation. Jesse was always practicing. Shelby was running a tough ship at that point. Jesse would come back with bruises after rehearsal and—"_

"_Shelby was beating the team?" Quinn asked with a gasp and Rylie let out a bark of laughter at the interruption._

"_What? No! She was not beating the team, but the rehearsals were intense. The choreography had a lot of kicks and lifts. A lot of the females were uncoordinated so Jesse would constantly be getting a kick to that arm or torso." Rachel's brow furrowed as she remembered just how dark those bruises were. It may have been a beating, it certainly looked like one. " I spent most of my time with him then helping him practice and taking care of his bruises and aches. But still, we were happy. We were together.'_

'_It was after Nationals when it got crazy. Jesse won, and Noah got upset, along with the other boys. In addition, they burned down Jesse's sailboat, I still feel terrible about that actually. Jesse made that boat with his father, it was really important to him but he didn't show it." Quinn glanced back at the bedroom door, remembering how destructive Noah used to be in their high school days. She always assumed Noah burned Jesse's boat, but until that moment, it was never confirmed. Rachel hesitated with guilt, knowing that Quinn was probably going to give Noah a talking to about it. _

_"Wait just a minute," Rylie said, drawing focus to her side of the couch, "Noah, as in Noah Puckerman, was the one to arson Jesse's boat?" _

_"Yes," Rachel said._

_"Chef Noah Puckerman, as in your husband?" Rylie added, nodding over at Quinn._

_"Yes, that Noah Puckerman," Rachel said again, her voice becoming a little more firm._

_"Wow," Rylie whistled, "I didn't think he had arson up his cards. I always knew there was a short fuse, but jus wow."_

_"Yes well, he has done a lot of growing up since highschool," Quinn commented before motioning for Rachel to continue, obviously eager to hear the rest of the story. _

"_Jesse said it was 'the price to pay for betraying, even in a falsehood, the heart of Rachel Berry.' We ended up going to the lumberyard the next day to buy materials for a new boat. We spent the rest of the summer building. It was so much fun, great excessive, and not to mention a great way to blow off steam after the endless glee drama. We finished mid July, took it out to the marina the same day actually. We kind of," Rachel began a blush creeping onto her cheeks, "spent the night on the boat. We were going to sail around the coast for a month before Jesse had to go to UCLA."_

"_Wait," Rylie, who had a smirk already forming on her lips, stopped Rachel from sailing full speed past a very important issue. "You spent the night on the boat?" Rachel nodded sheepishly, suddenly remembering why she conveniently left this part of the story out each time she told it to Rylie. "Your first time was on a boat?" Rachel nodded again, her cheeks getting redder. "Did the waves add some, y'know, momentum to the thrusts?" It was amazing how Rylie still kept a straight face. Rachel's jaw had dropped open as she struggled to hid a smile, Quinn was almost howling with laughter, and even Noah could be heard chuckling in the other room. _

"_Does that really matter now?" Rachel asked in between bits of soft giggles. When Rylie shrugged and shook her head no, Rachel continued. "Anyway, the next morning I headed home to grab a bag of clothes and some supplies for the trip. I was supposed to meet Jesse at the harbour, but I had time and figured I would grab some new music for the trip. As I was walking to through the parking lot of the mall, Giselle and Vocal Adrenaline were there."_

"_What?" Quinn asked, shocked at never hearing about this sooner, "why?"_

"_They said something about Jesse pulling the longest gag that anyone ever had before. The best funkification for next year, and bombarded me with eggs. I was drenched in yolk," Rachel could see Quinn's fist gripping the blanket tightly with a repressed rage, but Rylie's were still, unclasped as she sipped her tea with a stoic resolve. _

_It was strange, each time Rachel had told Rylie this story, her friend's reaction always got gradually angrier. But this time, she was fine, calm even. Unbothered by it all. Something was up, Rylie was either up to something, or knew something, and Rachel had a feeling that working with none other than Jesse St. James was the reason behind it. Whatever __**it**__ was. "I was upset, almost on the verge of hysterics. The thought that Jesse could be behind something like this, when he knew about and always accommodated to my vegan lifestyle, left me devastated. But I refused to believe any of it, even when I was showering at home. I still managed to get to the marina on time. I was even there ten minutes early, but when I got there, Jesse, and the boat were gone. He left without me. And I never saw him, or heard from him again. After a few months I kind of accepted he was behind the egging, but until I saw him on stage at the Canon, I was never sure."_

_An uncomfortable silence filled the room, as Rachel withdrew to a distant place in her memory. The devastation of that fateful day had never left her. His guilt-ridden face, Jesse's destroyed mask was sticking out in her mind, only confirming his evident involvement. With a soft clearing of her throat, Rachel sipped on her tea, letting the heat radiate in her, but Rylie's voice brought her back to the present._

_"Rach," Rylie said, her voice filling the sitting room, "As dramatic as that story is, what does Jesse have to do with tonight?"_

"_Ah, well," she paused before finding the right words, "Since that night, on the boat, I haven't been able to sleep soundly."_

"_What do you mean, how long do you sleep a night?" Quinn asked curiously as she placed her tea on the saucer before her._

"_No longer than two or three hours." Rachel said casually, like it has not in the slightest affected her life, "I constantly have the same dream, over and over again, and after I wake up from it, I can never fall back asleep."_

"_Rachel, I don't think that is really healthy," Rylie's voice took on a nurturing softness that made Rachel tingle with a strange type of need. The need for a comforting supportive affection that she lacked on so many other levels of her life. "I mean, I know that's definitely not healthy."_

"_Yeah, did you ask a doctor about it? Maybe they can give you sleeping pills?" Quinn added, her gaze unwavering, as she studied Rachel's appearance. _

"_I asked," Rachel took a sip of her tea to wash the need to continue out of her system. She had no idea why but for some reason the fact that she was able to sleep that night felt far too intimate to share with her best friends. Sure, she could tell them everything but this little piece of her heart was the only shred of peace she had left. It was private and hers. "He said I should see a shrink about it, but I never did." _

"_Well, maybe you should see one Rach," Rylie stirred her tea as she often did when she was thinking deeply, "It may help you get over all the emotion of it…"_

* * *

"And that's why I am here," Rachel's eyes finally met Nicole's full on. They were sympathetic, unlike any other 'shrink eyes' she has seen before. It kind of frightened her how un-scrutinizing Nicole's green orbs were, and it definitely unnerved her how she was unable to read the opinions Nicole was forming.

"Hmm," Nicole's response to the story unravelled Rachel more. A hum. That was all. Rachel felt the panic stir.

"What?" The anxiety seeped into Rachel's voice. "What is it?"

"You want me to be blunt?" Nicole asked directly, placing her pencil down on the side table.

"Yes" Rachel nodded eagerly, "please."

"It's a clear case of obsession in my opinion. You are obsessed with what had happened, more because of the lack of closure. You are in the play with him aren't you? Or might be? That may be triggering it. This—"

"But this is the first time I saw him," Rachel interjected, her mind reeling through Dr. Cherry's diagnosis, "And because of that I was able to sleep!" And just like that, the most intimate moment in Rachel's mind became privy to her shrink. This woman was definitely good.

"What?" The question was soft, interested, and immediately accompanied by the scratching of a pen on paper.

"For the first time in years I was able to sleep." Rachel said, unsure of whether to continue, but Nicole's eyes bore across the space of her office, urging Rachel to speak. "The dream, it ended." A confusion flustered on the professional's face, and Rachel tried to regain some coherency. "What I mean to say is it finished. I get this dream, it's a dream of the memory we made together. But it never completes. It never reaches the end, I always awake before the intimacy we created is re-enacted." The pen moved vigorously across the notepad, and Rachel, sighed out before finishing. "The night after the audition,"

"The first time you saw this Jesse St. James again?" Nicole asked, glancing up from her notes.

"Yes, the same night, the dream finished. It progressed through it all, and I woke up, but I slept. I really truly slept. More than 3 hours. More than five. Dr. Cherry, I slept all night."

"Then that's the solution." Nicole said with a matter of fact smile.

"The solution?"

"Yes," She said, smiling a little more brightly, obviously pleased with the progress they made in just one session. "Closure. You never got your resolution after something so obviously traumatic to you. You have to get your closure with this Jesse character."

"Oh." Was all Rachel to say? The simplicity of how Nichole Cherry managed to make the situation eased Rachel a great deal. Closure. How could she never of come to that option before?

"Rachel," Nicole said with finality, a voice finally fully familiar to her. A shrink is ending sentences. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have right now, but may I make a suggestion?"

"Yes," Rachel stammered slightly, still simmering through the session's remarkable clarity. "Yes, of course."

"First, I think you should consider continuing to see me, especially if you get this part in the play. It may help you work through the obsession. You will be working with him a lot after all," Rachel nodded in agreement, knowing in her heart that she would have continued her sessions regardless of the suggestion. "Second, I think you should talk to Jesse. Then maybe sleep can actually come naturally to you without requiring his presence. Maybe then these arguments with Finn won't occur as much either."

"I know I have to."

"You can't just know," Nicole, her business casual skirt fluttering behind her as she stood and walked to her desk. "You have to take action to move forward. Call my office whenever you wish to schedule your next appointment."

The crisp fall air and still bright, the sun lighted her mood considerably as Rachel walked out of Dr. Cherry's office. The events still swirled through her thoughts, pulling a considerable amount of her focus. So much so, she nearly missed the buzzing of her cell phone against her leg. Rachel was briefly frightened it was Finn calling her again, nearly ignoring the ringing device in her pocket, but better judgment got the best of her.

"Hello?" She answered the unknown call, with a confused tone.

"Hi, is this Rachel Berry?" The female voice on the other end of the line was curt yet bubbly, and Rachel's curiosity gripped through her.

"Speaking."

"Hi Rachel, this is Hannah Green," She said, before adding. "Arthur Hammel's secretary."

"O-Oh, H-Hi" Rachel stammered, her nerves taking over. She stopped mid stride, unable to move any further down the sidewalk. The immense importance of this call taking up all her mental processes. "H-How are you?"

"Great thanks," Hannah's polite voice was filled with a genuine joy, and Rachel felt hope bubble through her. "I am calling to inform you that the role of Satine in the Revival of Moulin Rouge is yours if you want it." Rachel nearly collapsed on the sidewalk. She hadn't just heard right, had she? This was a joke, it had to be. But it wasn't. Excitement filled Rachel's whole self and she nearly jumped up and down in spot before realizing Hannah was politely waiting for an answer.

"WH-what! You are kidding!" Her excitement was palpable and infectious.

"No," Hannah's chuckles were reassuring and Rachel's smile only grew in size. "This isn't a joke I assure you. Rehearsals start next Monday at 7 AM sharp. Please arrive a little early for warm up stretches and costume fittings. Congratulations, Rachel." With a quick thank you, the call was ended. And Rachel finally grasped the reality of the situation. A lead role.

Rachel Berry got a lead role in a Broadway play. Starring alongside one of the most talented actors she knew. Her dream, her painted life, was slowing becoming a reality. Now, if only Finn could see the greatness in this accomplishment.

* * *

_**Please review!**_


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